


This boy belongs to us

by Propernicethat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Abuse, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Play, Bondage, Boot Worship, Branding, Burnplay, Collars, Enemas, Explicit Sexual Content, Extreme Fisting, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Feral Behavior, Fetish, Fire-Torture, Fisting, Forced Alcohol Consumption, Forced Pet-Play, Fucking Machines, Genital Torture, Gun Kink, Humiliation, Incest, Knifeplay, Limb removal, Lingerie, M/M, Machines, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Milking Machine, Multi, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Spanking, Parent/Child Incest, Penis Size, ProperNiceThatsFeralRedSniper, Public Humiliation, Rape, Riding Crops, Size Difference, Urine, Verbal Abuse, Water Torture, cute doves, forced Self-Mutilation, forced blowjob, water sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The newly recruited red Scout is blackmailed by the Spy. He is forced into becoming nothing but a plaything for the other Mercs, pushing him to his every limit, mentally, sexually and physically.</p><p>This fic is extremely dubious and not for the faint hearted, make sure you read the tags before continuing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Red Team

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the first chapter, this is just a little introductory before the kinky shit begins. 
> 
> Each chapter will have a warning as to what fetishes it contains, some of the content is extreme and not for everyone, so be sure to check the beginning notes for each chapter before continuing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Coldfront. 

That's what the letter said. 

Despite the snow falling and having already two feet of snow beneath his sneakers, the red Scout was blinded by the sun as it filtered behind the tall building up ahead. He'd travelled on the bus for over six hours and was glad for his new employers to have paid the fees, not many transports would ever dare go this far save for the crazy Russian man bus driver behind the wheel. Now he stood there, messenger bag behind him, duffel bag in his left hand and baseball bat in his right, resting over his skinny shoulder. Lifting a hand to adjust his baseball hat, all he had to do now was walk. Soon he worked himself up into a brisk jog towards the building, snow kicking up behind him and any slipping only built up his forward momentum. Approaching, he saw the Engineer up front by the main entrance, who raised his head first and then a hand, he seemed to be fixing a burst water pipe. 

"Alright sunshine, new recruit? Been expecting you. Main hall is though them doors there, straight on to the mess hall, to the left is the main communal room..gotta' fire going there lad. To the right is the dorms."

The Texan smiled, hundreds of tiny snowflakes caught in his beard, which suggested he'd been out here a while. 

"Yeah, thanks man." 

The Scout raised a hand, walking past and into the main hall, as described. Painted red, nice and spacious. 

"Alright? Anyone here, hello?"

He called out and was immediately greeted by a giant of a man, whom of which had stuck his head out from the mess hall door. 

"Little man is new recruit, da?" 

His smile and demeanour were both welcoming and friendly.

"Water still not fixed?"

He questioned, as if testing the waters to see if the new recruit had already spoken to the engineer out front. The scout set his bat and bag down by the door, stretching as he removed his hat, flinging it on top of his bag. The Russian studied him, jet black hair, slicked back, a small tendril flicked up and over his forehead. The boy was scrawny, though it was difficult to tell if there was any hidden toned elements to his figure as his upper body was wrapped in a red leather jacket, buckled at the front, the top lapel hanging, revealing a black turtle neck sweater beneath. The Heavy stared perhaps a little too long at the boy's face, for not only was his nose red, no doubt from the cold, but his skin was littered with a mix of light teenage acne and freckles, which the large Russian found considerably adorable. 

"..Nah, fellas out there still working on it."

"Come, must be hungry."

The Heavy gestured to the mess hall, turning and moving inside. The cafeteria had one large table, and a segment to the side with a kitchen, evidently they took it in turns to cook as there was no other Mann co staff on site other then the Mercs themselves. The smell of creamy butterscotch hit the Scout's nose, mixed with the scent of hot, buttery pancakes, mouth watering bacon and sweet freshly cooked bread. He raised a bandaged hand to the bunch of what he could only describe as freaks at the table. A coloured chap, loud and rambunctious, drunk and stumbling. No plate in sight, just a bottle of booze. An equally as loud fellow American, regardless of the army hat covering his visuals he forked up a mouthful of bacon, letting the grease ooze down his stubbled chin. A fat bottomed, overall wearing ...gent? Broad? Was difficult to tell due to the gas mask, was sat beside him, kicking it's booted feet. To the side, further away was "Sunglasses at night", as the Scout had decided to call him. Bushman's hat slumped over his forehead, he was keeping to himself and a cup of coffee, handsome face though, the Scout had decided. 

He found himself taking a seat, a plate slammed so hard in front of him it was a surprise the thing hadn't shattered, immediately the plate was filled, bread, bacon, eggs, pancakes on top of the eggs and then more bacon.

"Eat up cupcake! Welcome to Red!"

The Soldier bellowed, loud enough to mask the Scout's groaning stomach as he grabbed a fork and began practically shovelling the food in, only stopping to grab the orange juice to his side, which had been filled by the Pyro. 

"Ain't you a little young for the battlefield?"

"Me? Nah', I'm a force of nature, a proper legend, kind of a big deal."

The scout spoke between mouthfuls, pushing the plate away when all that remained were the crusts of his bread. These guys really knew how to cook, he was gonna' enjoy his time here. 

The rest of the evening was spent in the communal area, a roaring fire and comfortable leather sofas, he swapped stories, exchanged conversations and talked over his new team mates, they were joined by the Engineer who'd revealed to the Scout that he'd been the mastermind behind the cooking and that the pipes were now fixed. When the Soldier had decided it was lights out, it was only then that the boy had moved to the door, only to find his belongings were no longer there. An eyebrow quirked, turning and grabbing the Engineer as he passed by the shoulder.

"Hey man, you seen my stuff?"

"Naw lad, I ain't."

The wink he gave was wasted on the Bostonian, hidden away behind goggles, the Scout frowned and moved to the living quarters. Lined with rooms, all with their Class symbols on each door, finding his own he opened the door to find a modest living space. A bed, a wardrobe, a writing desk, the Scout walked past to the window, which was wide open, closing it as he trembled. On the bed was his belongings, seems somebody had politely moved them. Turning to the mirror above the dresser he glanced to himself. Skin blotchy and red, he frowned, pressing his fingers to the sore but warm skin. Unpacking was the next thing on the agenda, opening the duffel bag and beginning to throw his clothes out onto the bed, he blinked back, eyes shifting as he began to search the bag all over. He was sure he'd packed it all, but one thing was missing. 

The photo of his Mom was gone. 

He knew he packed it, he'd have never forgotten it, she'd even pinched his cheek and playfully teased him about it, before hugging him, kissing his forehead and squeezing his hands affectionately. He frowned, checking though his clothes before leaving them in a heaped, crumpled pile on the floor, definitely not there. He fought the urge to go out and begin pointing fingers, but how pathetic would he seem? These guys were Mercs, the last thing he wanted was the reputation of the mommy's boy, homesick and needy. He sighed, least he could still call her in the morning, if he couldn't see her face in a photo at least he could be soothed by her voice. He sat on the bed, it lurched downwards with a creak.

Tonight was going to be a long night.


	2. The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first main chapter. The Spy reveals all.
> 
> Warning! This chapter contains the following fetishes:
> 
> Pet play  
> Forced eating  
> Very light bondage  
> Humiliation  
> Anal play  
> Non-con

Was it morning? It was so dark. 

The Scout had passed out on his bed, fully dressed, he remembered dreaming about honey and butter toast and playing baseball in the yard. Now, as he woke up, all he could see was complete darkness and for some reason his jaw ached. He rapidly blinked, trying to make out any shapes in front of him, turning his head and squirming to the side, he realised he couldn't move his arms. He gulped, wiggling each individual finger, which tingled as he felt rough plastic dig tightly into his exposed wrists. He began to move his legs, realising that he couldn't unbend his knees and his ankles felt sore and uncomfortable. He felt his own drool trickle down his chin, suddenly realising that his lips were stretched around a ball, which was strapped tightly to the back of his head. He tried to make a sound, trying to talk around the rubber, only murmurs and muffled groans escaped him as he turned his head from side to side. 

He heard footsteps approaching him and he immediately began to panic, he must have been captured by the enemy in the night, he was going to be interrogated for information he didn't yet have, he began to plan, he was going to remain calm. He would explain carefully to his kidnappers that he was a new recruit, had no information and when the fucker least suspected it, he'd smack 'em right around the head. He puffed out his chest, suddenly two doors opening before him, just inches from his face, letting some dull light in. Smoke filtered though the gap, causing the boy's eyes to water, turning his head from side to side as he rapidly blinked. 

"I see you're awake, mon chaton."

The sultry tone and a French accent, evidently this was one of the Mercs the Scout had failed to meet the previous night. His eyes widened as he looked up at the man before him. Tall, dressed to the nines in one of the finest pinstripe suits he'd ever seen, face covered by a ski mask? What was this guy? Some kind of bond villain? If it hadn't been for the ballgag, the Scout would have had a lot more to say. He murmured around the gag, a leather gloved finger moving beneath his chin, wiping the drool away. He realised now he was being kept in this man's wardrobe, his wrists were bound either sides of his head with cable ties and his knees had been forced down into the tiny space, splaying his thighs wide open. He looked up at the Spy, visuals narrowed. 

"Have nothing to say? Why of course, here, let me help."

He slowly untied the ballgag from behind the Scout's head, who immediately moved his jaw and began rapidly speaking, mouth moving a mile a minute. 

"Hey man, what gives? This better be some kind of sick joke, because when you untie me I'm gonna' paint the walls with ya'! You slimy bastard, seriously, what the fucks yo-.."

He was cut off when the Spy removed a photo from the inside of his dashing suit jacket, the image showed a smiling woman, black beehive of hair and lovely eyes. His mother. 

"You! So it was you who stole it, haha, very funny man, real smooth."

"She looks an awful lot like the woman we have captive downstairs...beautiful hair..lovely voice.."

He took a long drag from his cigarette, looking down at the boy, holding the image still before him.

"Would be such a shame if something was to happen to her, oui?"

"...You're lying, you're bullshitting!"

He immediately shouted, the Spy silenced him by turning to the television, which had gone unnoticed until now. He switched it on, flicked the channel over to what looked like a live-feed. Scout watched in horror as he saw, tied to a chair, squirming and struggling, terrified with make up trickling down her cheeks, was his mother, there was no doubt about it. The Scout's heart leapt in his throat, his form trembled with rage as he gritted his teeth. 

"Mother fucker, you mother fucker! Let her go! You better goddamn let her go!"

"Not yet, non non. Not unless you cooperate little mimi."

The Spy chuckled, smoke filtering from between his teeth. He turned the television off, throwing the remote to the side before approaching the boy once more. 

"I will let her go, unharmed, but in return you will belong to me. You will be mine, my property to do whatever I wish."

"Fuck you!"

The Scout immediately spat, throwing himself forward in the wardrobe, only managing to crack his back as he fell back against the hard mahogany wall, squirming and struggling. 

"...Fine, then perhaps you'd like to wait here and watch as each and every one of us has a go with your precious mother...I can't guarantee everyone will be...gentle."

The Spy chuckled once more, watching as the boy's face fell, he swallowed a hard lump in his throat, hanging his head in defeat. There was no way in hell he was letting his mother be put though all that.

"..Okay..I give. I'm yours, I belong to you..just..just let her go."

He suddenly felt fingers on his face, closing his eyes and flinching as he felt stubble against his cheek, the hot breath which stank of cigarettes and liquor. 

"..Good boy."

He whispered into the Scout's ear, teeth slowly taking the lobe, biting down in a claiming manner, the boy flinched, closing his eyes tightly. He felt the cable ties being snapped off, fighting with everything he had not to punch this smug bastard in the face and go and rescue his mom. He lowered his arms, instinctively rubbing his wrists. 

"Get out, sit on your knees."

The Spy ordered, stepping back in order to watch the boy. He did as he was told, slowly climbing out the wardrobe, he wobbled, stumbling forward, his legs twitching, his feet tingling with pins and needles and his form covered in goosepimples. Why was he so cold? Those eyes widened as he looked up at the Spy in horror, he was wearing only a pair of small black panties, silky and tight, they rode up his taunt buttocks. He felt like he was going to be sick, this was sick, this was fucked up. He opened his mouth to begin shouting profanities when the Spy raised a hand. 

"...Look at you, a little salope."

As he spoke, he turned the dresser mirror towards the boy, so he could see himself. He red, acne covered cheeks were flushed hotly, those eyes, without realising were filled with tears and his slender frame trembled, not only with the cold but now in fear too.  
The Spy sat down on the bed, spreading his thighs he curled a finger to the boy, requesting. 

"..Crawl. Salope. Crawl like the little bitch you are."

The words rolled off his tongue, that French accent strong, but sly, with a hint of domineering tone. The Scout did as he was told, slowly crawling over until he knelt before the Frenchman. 

"Closer."

He ordered, watching as the boy moved between his thighs. The Spy took him by his hair, slowly pushing his face to his crotch, the Scout froze, holding his breath, his nose pressed tightly to the bulge between the man's thighs. The Spy ordered the boy to keep his head still as he retrieved a leather collar from behind him on the bed, he slunk it around the Scout's neck, buckling it at his throat before pulling his head back, yanking his hair and looking down at him. 

"Stay, chaton."

He ordered, lifting his form, stepping over the boy and moving into the tiny kitchen area of his room. The boy did as he was told, completely mortified with his predicament, realising he wasn't even in his own room anymore, this was clearly the Spies. The same layout, the bed to the side, the wardrobe he'd been kept in behind him, beside the door. An L shape, where the kitchen was at the head, followed by a tiny wet room. The Scout waited in silence, feeling his own tears trickling down his cheeks, he feverishly wiped them, angry with himself, a mixture of emotions washing over him. The Spy returned, holding two metal dishes, he'd lower them beside the bed, one containing milk, the other? ...The Scout stared in horror, was that wet cat food?

"You haven't had breakfast."

He nudged the boy with one of his polished dress shoes, but the Scout remained still, eyes wide as he stared up at the Spy. Was he fucking serious? Dumbfounded, he suddenly felt a hand on his collar, yanking his head up, face to face with his captor. 

"..You called me a mother fucker earlier, oui? If you don't want me to make that a true statement, I suggest you eat."

He chuckled, dropping the boy before the bowls. Slowly he approached it on his knees, feeling the Spies shoe strike his face hard, he cried out.

"Chatons don't walk on two legs."

He snapped, the Scout immediately moved down onto his hands and crawling the rest of the way. He looked up at the Spy, trembling as he slowly brought his lips to the foul smelling meat. He coughed, retching as he spat the food back into the bowl. He opened his mouth to protest when he felt a shoe move on top of his head, forcing his face into the bowl. He had no choice, feeling his open mouth full with the disgusting wet meat. He choked back a sob, feeling it go up his nose and squish against his skin. 

"How unappreciative, I'd eat up, because who knows when you'll be fed next."

Suggested the Spy, who applied more weight onto the boy's head. He began to eat, swallowing it down slowly and fighting back the retching and nausea that built up in his throat. Eventually the Spy lifted his foot, the boy immediately raised his head, the bowl half empty. He seriously needed to get the taste out of his mouth, turning his attention to the milk, he raised his eyes, his tongue moving out to lap at the milk as he looked up at the Spy. The Frenchman had a twisted grin on his face as the Scout's face screwed up, this wasn't milk at all. He spat it out, lifting his head and was immediately rewarded with the Spy's hand, gripping a fistful of his black hair. 

"It's homemade, I'll be terribly offended if you didn't drink the whole saucer."

He sneered, cigarette bouncing on his lip as he spoke, pushing the boy's face down into the dish. The Scout closed his eyes tightly, whimpering and spluttering, horrified.

Cum, this was cum, he was being forced to drink cum. The Spy relished in the boy's realisation, keeping his head down.

"Drink up, wouldn't want you to drown."

He spoke casually, watching as the boy reluctantly began to lap up the sickly, salty substance, coughing as it bubbled from his nostrils. When the Spy was satisfied he lifted the boy's head, punching him square in the face and throwing him to the floor on his back.

"Good little mimi, good boy."

He praised, kneeling down and beginning to stroke the boy all over, sliding fingers over his nipples, pinching them before running it down his belly. 

"Open your thighs.."

He whispered into the boy's ear, moving over him and bringing his mouth to his, forcing his tongue between the Scout's, filling his smaller mouth, exploring as he tasted himself. The boy tried to shake his head, feeling fingers pinch his inner thighs until they were spread nice and wide. The Spy continued to praise, slowly lowering his hand to the boy's crotch, never once lifting the tight panties. The Scout whimpered, not at all aroused by the predicament, the Spy lifted his lips from his, replacing them with fingers, which he forced in.

"No biting..that's it. Don't choke."

He instructed, slowly sliding two fingers to the back of the boy's throat, who gulped and retched, squirming beneath the Spy.

"You're going to have to get used to this...I can't even begin to imagine all the things you're going to be taking between those lips of yours, boy."

He'd slide his fingers out, wiping the saliva on the boy's cheek. 

"Stop..do w-.."

"..Cats don't talk."

The Spy hissed, smacking the boy in the face once more, who winced at the sting, it was followed by another slap, then another. The Spy pinned him down to the floor, repeatedly smacking the boy's cheeks until they were red and raw, gripping him by his hair and yanking his head up to expose his neck. The Scout only whimpered, trembling. 

"..Perhaps when the Medic has his hands on you, I'll have him remove your vocal cords."

He whispered, the tone seductive but the words clearly not. The Scout shook his head, the fear in his eyes only made the Spy's pants tighter.

"..Now, lets take a good look at you."

He gripped the boy by his hair once more, raising his own form as he forcefully flipped the boy over onto his stomach. He smacked the Scout's thighs roughly, without words the boy had no clue what the man wanted him to do. Eventually, after four more slaps, he bent his knees, raising his buttocks up as he pressed his cheek to the floor. The Spy didn't speak as he slowly rolled the boy's tiny panties down to reveal his slightly freckled buttocks. Toned and smooth, he parted them, not even a single hair on the boy, it was beautiful. The Spy leaned in, to get a good look at the tiny puckered entrance, the Scout remained silent, staring forward as he tried to block out the humiliation he was feeling. A prodding finger at his entrance snapped him out of it and he began to shake his head.

"No..no pleas-.."

SMACK.

"Kittens. Don't. Talk."

The Spy snapped firmly, rubbing the brilliant red hand print on the boy's sore buttock, the Scout immediately shut up, biting his lip and closing his eyes tightly. He felt a finger probe his entrance, slowly sliding in, he jolted, crying out loudly in pain. The Spy kept it inside for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the boy squirming against his knuckle before slowly withdrawing. 

"..Good boy."

He encouraged, slowly pushing the finger back in once more. 

"..Now fuck it like the bitch you are."

The Scout grew still a moment, his lips parted and he turned his head around, almost as if he didn't believe the man was serious. The Spy was dead serious. Lowering his cheek to the floor, he slowly pulled himself away from the finger, before moving back onto it, he ever so slightly rocked his hips, choking back yet another sob of pain and humiliation. He repeated the motion on the gloved finger before the Spy withdrew it. 

"When nobody is using you, you will be plugged. If you need to use the bathroom, you will ask permission, you no longer make decisions by yourself, you are a dumb animal and you belong to me."

He chuckled, sharing this boy with the other Mercs would be difficult. Slowly he'd rise, moving to the dresser and returning with a smooth, clear buttplug. Of average size, it was still large for a virgin like the Scout. The Spy pushed the head to the boy's lips, who instinctually turned away. He was rewarded with that hand gripping his hair once more, forcing his lips around the glass length. 

"Best make it nice and wet, mimi."

The Spy withdrew the plug from the boy's lips, a trail of saliva following it before he moved around the boy's rear once more. He parted his cheeks, pushing the head of the plug into him. It wasn't like the fingers, wide and uncomfortable, the Scout felt himself being stretched open, his tiny, virgin anus taking the length in, swallowing all but the end of the plug, which the Spy hid away by pulling up the boy's little panties once more. He squirmed in discomfort, burying his face against the carpet as he tried desperately to expel it. 

"If I find you've removed it, I will double the size of the next one."

The Spy chimed in, as if he could read the boy's mind. The Scout felt his hands being gripped, being forced into black leather mittens, tied tightly at the wrists. The Spy explained to the boy that kittens didn't have fingers and thumbs. When he was done, he pushed the boy onto his side, gripping him by his collar and dragging him into the kitchen. In there was a dog crate, a thin blanket inside and a bowl of water, and now the Scout as he was pushed in face first.

"How polite of me to serve you breakfast first, now it's time for me to indulge in mine."

He locked the cage, raised into a full stand and proceeded to first dust himself off, then adjusted his tie. 

"Behave yourself little mimi."

He cooed mockingly, turning and moving out. The Scout heard the door shut, he lay on his side, curling in, feeling light headed from the beatings and uncomfortable from the plug, he lay there whimpering, soon the tears came as his shoulders rose and fell, sobbing softly. He was powerless and frightened, he was in the middle of nowhere, nobody would care about his cries as he whimpered and sobbed louder. He was theirs now, the Spy was right, a dumb animal. 

What the Scout didn't know, was that the worst was yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think and who you want to see next!


	3. The Medic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains the following:
> 
> Forced Medical examination  
> Enemas  
> Humiliation  
> The usual Scout abuse

The Scout lay there in silence, straining his ears for any sounds of footsteps or voices approaching. He’d covered his slender form in the thin blanket provided, but it had done little to keep the chill from the open kitchen window out from between the bars of his tiny cage. It had occurred to him that he desperately needed the toilet and the prickling cold air wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

“Hello?” 

He called out, reluctant at first, afterall the Spy seemed insistent on not allowing him to speak. He frowned, lifting his head only to bang it on the low ceiling of his confinement. Wincing he pressed his cheeks to the bars, rattling them noisily with his mittened hands. He’d knocked his water over in the process, shouting out more and shaking the strong metal bars in desperation. Suddenly, he heard the door open, footsteps approaching, immediately he grew quiet, shrinking back and loosing his attitude as the Spy appeared once more, standing over the cage.

“I nee-..”

“Little mimis don’t speak.”

The Frenchman interrupted, kneeling down and unlocking the cage door.

“Out.”

He ordered, watching as the Scout did as he was told, crawling out the cage. His form was covered in goose pimples, trembling all over as he looked up at the man, the Spy revelled in the fear reflected in the boy’s eyes, a hint of hate behind them. The Scout shrunk back when the Spy leaned forward to stroke his hair, gently pressing his gloved knuckles to his freckle and acne littered cheek. 

“Good boy. Come on. We need to make sure you’re in good health.”

He chuckled, gripping the boy by his collar and yanking him up as he himself brought his own slender frame into a stand. He gathered the Scout up bridal style in his arms, the boy’s gangly long legs hanging down. 

“Heavier than you look.”

The Spy grunted, holding the boy against his chest. The Scout braced himself, squirming for a moment before tensing up. The Spy ignored him, keeping his grip tight on the boy as he moved out of his room, crossing the hallway and moving to a set of stairs. Once the stairs were descended they approached a closed door, marked with a traditional red medical cross. Another Merc the Scout hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting was waiting within the Med bay. The Spy didn’t bother knocking, opening the door and pressing his back to it in order to prevent the wood from swinging back in his face. The Med Bay had a smell to it, the Scout struggled to distinguish whether or not it was a sterile scent or something a little more clinical….there was a thick metally stench coming from a closed off room. The room itself was large and square in shape, in the middle was a steel table with bindings, like something you’d see in a torture movie. To the side lined three medical cots with curtains drawn. The walls were lined with counters and cabinets, wheeled tables made of steel off to the side, filled with all kinds of intimidating, sharp tools. Sat at the main desk, off to the left was an older gentleman, glasses perched on his nose and a somewhat square face. The Scout was immediately intimidated, while the Spy, as he always had, found the German attractive as ever. 

“Oh hullo Herr Spy. Ist this the new recruit we spoke of during breakfast?”

The Spy walked over to the steel table, setting the Scout down, the boy had decided that this mornings abuse was a lot more appealing than what this Doctor sat before him had install. He raised his arms, pawing uselessly at the Spy’s suit, looking up at him with pleading eyes, he shook his head, desperate to shout out. The Spy chuckled, lowering a hand to pet the Scout.

“He needs a full examination, who knows what diseases he might be carrying.”

The Frenchmen said, mockingly. To the two European gentlemen this was all just a game, the Scout, their plaything. While the two exchanged casual words, the Scout took his chance, bolting off the table, he shot for the door as quickly as he could. He smacked his mitten covered fists against it, realising it’d auto locked behind them when they’d come in, a number pad on both sides of the door, password protected. The Doctor had clearly left it unlocked as he was expecting the Spies arrival. 

“You can’t do this shit to me, this is fucked up!”

He shouted, continuing to slam his fists into the door, despite knowing all escape was now futile. The fluttering of wings were heard above him and it was only then that he stopped in order to take a moment to look up. A few sets of beady black glossy eyes peered down at him, and as he stood there in silence, he heard their tiny coos. The Spy approached, grabbing him by his wrist and dragging him back to the table. 

“I can see now he needs treatment, he is evidently very sick.”

The Medic adjusted his glasses in a knowing manner, still the back-and-forth words between the two were mocking and if the Scout felt uneasy before, he felt moreso now, especially when the Spy lifted him, set him down on the counter and simply turned to leave.

“Behave little Mimi. The Doctor will take good care of you.”

A chuckle, lighting up a cigarette as he disappeared, the sound of the door keys being punched in, door swung open, then gone, leaving the German and the American glancing over to one another. 

The Scout gulped, lowering his shoulders and trying to make himself as uninteresting as possible, the Doctor’s clinical stare frightened him more than the Spy’s angry frown and raised hand. The Medic approached, moving into a stand and approaching the boy, gloved fingers immediately took his chin, inspecting his flaking skin and frowning in displeasure.

“Herr Spy said you need cleaning.”

Spoke the German, lowering his hand and disappearing into one of the side rooms. He wheeled out a steel stand, hooks at the top and square empty bags hanging from them. A hose was also looped around, hanging off to the side. The Scout immediately began to shake his head. 

“Please..don’t…you have to hel-..”

Smack.

The Doctor hit harder than the Spy. The boy immediately shut up, lowering his gaze as the German disappeared once more, returning with a triangular shaped cushion.

“Are you going to behave for your examination?”

The Scout wanted to shout and scream, he wanted to punch this bastards aloof face, he wanted to smash this disgusting place to pieces. In the silence that followed, he’d simply nod, keeping his gaze lowered.

“Oh don’t look so sad.”

The Medic gripped the boy’s wrist, pulling him over the table and rearranging him on his hands and knees. He cuffed the boy’s ankles in place, spread apart and to the table, to prevent him from suddenly deciding to bolt again. He took the pillow, placing it beneath the Scout’s belly and against his bent knees and thighs, due to the triangular shape, it forced his buttocks up, and his upper body down, his cheek pressed tightly to the freezing cold steel surface of the table. Upper body lowered, buttocks in the air, the boy cringed, closing his eyes tightly as he heard a trigger hook from a leash attach to his collar, keeping his head chained down to the table. The Medic however, was kind enough to leave the boy’s wrists free of restraint, evidently deciding the mittens were enough for the job. 

“You will feel better after, I guarantee you, boy. Herr Spy said you were terribly filthy.”

As he spoke, he snapped the base of his left glove, securing the latex snugly to his digits as he lowered the rim of the boy’s tight panties, leaving him bent over and exposed, the Scout didn’t even realise that tears were already falling down his cheeks in pure humiliation. His bottom lip trembled, closing his eyes and turning his head away from the “medical practitioner” as he prepared the warm, soapy water, filtering it into the bags and fitting the tubes. He heard the him approach once more, tutting as he removed the butt plug from the boy, then tutting again at how soiled it was. 

“That Spy was right, you really are filthy, boy.“

The boy’s cheeks flushed harder than before, then he jolted when he felt something cold against his tight entrance, squirming in discomfort as the Medic slathered him up with the lubricant. 

“Sssh…good good...”

He encouraged, gently pressing the base of a metal speculum into the quivering boy’s anus, the metal was uncomfortable but smooth, filling him. The Doctor didn’t wait for the Scout to get comfortable, squeezing the two handles together in order to begin the dilation. The first time it pinched, the device expanding inside the boy, pressing against the inner walls, the second time, the boy whimpered in discomfort, feeling the cool, sterile air against his exposed buttocks. He shook his head, another pathetic whimper as the Doctor decompressed the device once more, expanding the boy further and taking a small torch to the now open anus. 

“I can see straight down into your bowls…you look just perfect stretched open like this, perhaps when the Spy is finished with you, he’ll allow me to display you here for all to see.”

He chuckled, the Scout glad he couldn’t see the man’s face, already knowing he’d have a sick grin to match his deranged laughter. The boy continued to shake his head, closing his eyes tightly and jolting when the Doctor decompressed the speculum once more. Once he was satisfied, he compressed the handles, squeezing them before sliding the steel device from the boy's anus. The Scout was rewarded with a gentle pat on the buttock as the Doctor walked away, he couldn't even turn his head to see where the man had gone, the room was quiet save for the gentle cooing of the doves above him. Then he suddenly felt a finger prod inside his sore anus, removed, and then the nozzle of the enema was pushed in, compared to the previous device, this was pushed in no problem. The Medic chuckled, continuing to pet the boy as he hung the bag of warm soapy water onto one of the hooks, making sure the nozzle and hose were all secured before slowly releasing the clamp to allow the water to flow. The Scout immediately jolted, his toes curled as he hitched a breath, he tried to lift his head, pulling at the chain which held his neck down. He felt the water beginning to fill him, injecting into his bowls, the Medic applied pressure to the clamp, in order to stop the water flow only for a moment in order to check for any air pockets before continuing. A few moments passed before the boy felt the first cramping as his bowls began to fill, he struggled in the restraints, slapping and pawing desperately at the table.

"Stop..it stop it, please.."

He pleaded, rocking his hips, lowering a hand to his stomach and holding it. 

"Now now, the bag is only half empty, we have to make sure you're properly clean...you'd hate for me to have to do this twice, boy~"

The Medic cooed, stopping the flow and wheeling the stand closer in order to examine the boy. The Scout writhed and whimpered, pressing his cheek to the metal as he tried to close his thighs, tried to expel the nozzle, anything to make it stop. He felt a hot sweat pass over him, the cramps rolled out as his stomach began to very slightly distend.

"Here, let me help."

The Scout felt a hand move down to very gently rub his distended middle, he choked back a sob, his shoulders rising and falling as he howled, sobbing loudly in both pain and humiliation, he shook his head, he scrabbled, touching the Doctor's gentle hand.

"Please..stop..it..help me..please..it hurts.."

He managed, pitifully, the Medic was listening, looking up only to see that the bag was empty. He kept rubbing the boy's middle, whispering gentle, soothing words into his ear, encouraging him. He raised into a stand, taking the now cleaned plug from the side and bringing his fingers to the nozzle, with skilled hands, he pulled it from the boys anus, immediately replugging him with the plug, pushing it in and applying pressure to make sure it stayed. Only a tiny bit of water escaped in the process, the Scout felt it draining down his trembling thighs. He'd almost sighed with relief when the Medic had removed the nozzle, only to find he was only to be replugged. He immediately managed another cry of pain, doubling over as the cramps deepened. Sweat trickled down his back in visible beads. 

"You need to hold it, sssh."

The words didn't help, the boy hiccuped and whimpered, drool trickled down his chin as he panted, trying anything to cope with the discomfort. 

"Please..take it..out..I..need.."

The boy hadn't even noticed that he'd begun to urinate on himself, his bladder unable to hold it due to the pressure, he felt the hot liquid pouring down his thighs and immediately he tried to close them, the Medic watched, mock disappointment on his features as he approached once more. 

"...Filthy AND incontinent? I have got my work cut out for me."

He took the rim of the boy's panties, pulling them down to his bent knees, a hand moved between the Scout's thighs, gripping his penis, it was only then that he sniggered unprofessionally. 

"...Well well, looks like someone missed out on some good genes. So much urine from such a tiny little thing, my my~"

The boy's cheeks flushed, feeling those fingers on his tiny, three inch prick, the Medic took a cloth from the side, using it to clean the boy and between his thighs. The Scout just lay there limp, crying softly as the Medic walked off, retrieving a bucket. 

"Please.....please..."

The Scout managed, feeling the Medic's fingers on the buttplug, the German wiggled it, before slowly dislodging it, the boy immediately expelled the liquid and other unmentionables, he remained crying, though still in humiliation but also now in relief as he felt the water rush from within him, the cramps immediately easing off, he slumped against the table. Once he was done, the Doctor wiped him clean, replacing the buttplug inside the boy's now sore anus. He removed the pillow, unbuckling his ankles and removing the boy's soiled panties, however he kept him restrained to the table by the neck. Carefully, the Medic rolled the Scout over onto his back, setting him down and stroking his face and hair gently. 

"Such a good pet." 

He praised, continuing to stroke down the Scout's body, perhaps he was checking for lumps and bumps, the Scout remained still other than the trembling, watching as the Medic buckled the boy's ankles to the table once more, spreading his legs wide apart. The Scout closed his eyes, pretending he was somewhere else when he felt the Medic's large fingers begin to stroke his tiny cock up and down, cupping his balls and pulling the skin back. He lowered a mittened hand to cover himself and the Doctor smacked it away, going back to stroking. The boy felt his body betray him, feeling that tiny length harden within the Doctor's finger tips, he shook his head, swallowing gently as the man raised his hand, looking down at the Scout.

"Lets get you cleaned up."

Those glasses adjusted, he unbuckled the boy's thighs, leaning in and removing the chain from his collar. The Doctor lifted him up, carrying him against his chest carefully and moving to the washroom to the side, setting him down on a counter. The bath water was running and the Scout began to relax, watching the Medic as he prepared his bath, the Spy had wanted his new plaything to be clean inside and out for the next few days he was going to be defiled. When the bath was run, the Scout had failed to notice just how much steam was coming off the waters surface, the Doctor picked him up and lowered him into it fluidly. It was so hot it stung his feet, then his buttocks which followed, agony shot though him and he screamed out, scrabbling forward and lunging against the Doctor who held him. The Medic fussed the Scout, rubbing his back as he continued to lower him into the scorching hot bath, forcing him to sit and holding his collar to keep him from standing. The Scout thrashed, kicking the water out and throwing his arms around, trying to hit the Medic, frantically trying to escape the burning, scolding heat.

"Calm down, calm down! You're such a baby!"

The Medic shouted over the boy's desperate cries for help, but was successful in keeping him pinned down. He continued to thrash, by now exhausted from everything that had happened he submitted, allowing the Doctor to bathe him with gloved hands.

Ten minutes passed before the Doctor finally allowed the boy to stand, the Scout immediately did so, using his water soaked mittens to splash the man as much as possible, but the Medic didn't at all seem fazed by the boiling temperature, he simply helped the boy out, lifting him and placing him on the counter before towelling him down, drying him off. Neither of them spoke a word as the Medic picked him up and walked him back to the table, the Scout was thankful for the cold surface, feeling his slightly damp back stick to the steel. The Medic chained him to the table once more, then went about his business, completely ignoring the Scout. 

The Spy showed up just after lunch time, slinking though the door and raising a hand in greetings to the Doctor.

"He looks much cleaner, like a different kitten."

The Spy spoke, exchanging pleasantries with the Doctor as if the Scout wasn't even there. He just lay there in silence, exhausted from his ordeal. The Medic explained that the boy had soiled his panties then suggested a diaper, the Spy had none of it and that he had something for the boy to wear when they returned to his quarters. Unchaining the Scout, the boy leaned in against the Spy's chest as he was picked up, surprisingly docile, exhausted and frightened, he just rested. The Spy spoke some more with the Doctor before departing, he took the Scout back to his room, there he wiggled the plug inside the boy who squirmed and shook his head, silently begging, pleading not to be hit or molested. He took the boy to the cage, setting him down in the blanket and stroking his hair, watching him as he pushed himself to the back of the cage in fear, closing his eyes tightly and shrinking away from his captor. 

"Sleep."

The Spy ordered, turning and moving out the room and into his main living quarters, seating himself on the bed and lighting a cigarette. He ignored the soft whines of discomfort from the boy, deep in thought. Word had gotten out on his little blackmailing and the Engineer had decided that if the Spy didn't agree to share the Scout, he'd alert the Administrator, the others had agreed they'd do the same if the man didn't share his new plaything. This annoyed him, but at the same time, perhaps they could take it in turns to baby sit his new pet while he continued on with business. 

Afterall, he had a date tonight. 

 

*******

Scout's mother was holding two dresses in front of her, one blue, one red. She just couldn't decide which one would flatter and accentuate her figure. Her hair was done in it's usual beehive, but she wore more make up because tonight she was going on a date. He'd introduced himself as a workmate of her son's, he wasn't allowed to disclose much information which of course she'd understand! Turns out the Frenchman was equally charming and had good taste in both food and music! She'd decided on the red dress in the end, checking her lipstick in the mirror one more time she whisked herself off to the bedroom to choose which clutch bag she was going to take.

If Scout's mother was at home, ready to go on a date, then who exactly was the woman tied to the chair in the base?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so wanted to squeeze sounding in there...


	4. The Pyro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As its flash fire week I thought it'd be good timing for the next chapter to be the Pyro's turn with the Scout.
> 
> Warning, the following chapter contains:
> 
> Branding  
> Forced wearing of lingerie  
> The usual Scout abuse

When the Scout woke up, the room was dark, his eyes darted, looking for a clock. It was night time, but despite straining his ears, he couldn’t make out any sounds of the Spy sleeping in the other room. He winced as he turned in the small cage, realising the blanket had twisted around his legs in the night. He’d slept most of the day and now he was wide awake. He remained listening, jumping when he heard the door open to the main room, shutting with a soft, barely audible click, he heard footsteps and humming from the Spy, then suddenly he was blinded by the kitchen light. 

“Little Mimi, you shouldn’t be awake this hour.” 

The Frenchman chuckled, approaching the cage and crouching down in front of the boy, who shrunk back nervously, he unlocked the cage, leaning in and grabbing the Scout by the collar, pulling him out the cage and onto the cold tiled floor. The man smelt of expensive cigarettes and liquor and…mom? The Scout looked up at the man, his eyes wide, he couldn’t stop himself.

“What have you done to her?”

He snapped, going to grab the Frenchman by the tie before realising he was still locked in those leather mittens. He screwed his face up in frustration and then pain, as the Spy smacked the boy directly in the mouth, yanking him up by his collar.

“…I was making sure she was okay, looking after her, feeding her, afterall, you’re keeping up your end of the bargin, non?”

The boy got another smack before being yanked up into the man’s arms, he walked him over to the wet room to the side, to which the Scout stared in horror. On the floor, next to the toilet was a cats litter tray, the Spy pushed the boy, who fell on his hands and knees.

“Go on, the Medic didn’t hesitate to tell me of your little..wetting incident, I can’t have an non littler-trained kitten as a pet.”

The Spy, though his words seemed serious had a mocking sneer on his lips as the Scout moved over to the tray, he turned around looking to the man who only shooed the boy forward with his fingers. Much to his dismay, the Scout did need to piss, he lowered a hand to his exposed cock, realising that with those mittens there was no way in hell he was going to be able to aim. He moved on his hands and knees over the tray, lowering his upper body some and spreading his thighs around the tray. He looked to the Spy, who was still staring, the boy’s cheeks flushed in humiliation as he closed his eyes, looking away as the stream of warm piss began to escape him, he trembled, lowering his shoulders awkwardly as he felt those eyes staring at him. 

“Good boy, well done.”

The Spy praised, approaching and taking some toilet roll in order to wipe the boy, checking him over before lifting him up and holding him to his chest. He walked into his main quarters, laying him down on his back upon his bed, looking down at the Scout who lay there obediently, still with a frown on his freckled face. 

“Lets put something on you before I retire, I can’t have you naked all the time.”

As the Spy spoke, he wandered to the nearby chest, to the Scout’s horror, he removed a red lacey number from the open drawer. A tiny, see-thru red pair of panties, hold ups hanging down and a matching pair of thigh high stockings. The Scout shook his head the same time the Spy nodded his own, watching as he approached once more. He brought the panties to the boy’s feet.

“Lift.”

He ordered, the Scout held his mitten enclosed hands to his chest, knocking his head back and closing his eyes tightly, feeling the silky, mesh material roll up his thin but toned thighs as he raised his legs, covering up his tiny length and sliding over his taunt buttocks, he squirmed some in discomfort as the material rode up, pushing the plug into him further. Next came the stockings, one first, which the Spy rolled up, smoothing them up the boy’s legs and snapping the hold ups onto the rim in order to keep the stockings secure, he repeated the next, stroking the boy’s thigh gently when he was done. 

The Scout closed his thighs, curling his legs in and writhing slightly with discomfort, he held a hand over his visible crotch, shaking his head as the Spy grabbed him by the collar, pulling him onto his front and proceeding to apply a harsh smack to one of the boy’s sore buttocks. The hand continued upwards, stroking up the curve of the Scout’s spine. The Spy revelled in the boy’s reactions, the trembles, the little sounds of embarrassment and dismay, all music to his ears. 

“One finishing touch.”

The Frenchman said, as if he were working on an exotic painting, removing from the drawer a large red ribbon, He tied it neatly around the boy’s neck, his collar just resting beneath it, he curled the ribbon expertly into a large bow at the back of the boy’s neck. The Scout looked completely miserable, curling onto his side on the man’s bed, he looked up at him, frowning. The Spy only shook his head, leaning in to pick the boy up. 

“Sleep more, tomorrow I will truly claim you as my own.”

The Scout didn’t want to know what the Frenchman meant by that. 

Xxx

The next morning came and it seems the Spy had gone to breakfast. The Scout hadn’t slept much, unable to adjust the uncomfortable panties, the mesh scratching at his skin and riding up between his buttocks. When the door opened, the Spy wasn’t alone. He was talking to somebody else, and judging by the one sided conversation, the other participant was that strange, Gas mask wearing …thing from the previous night before the last. The Scout froze on the spot in fear as the Overall wearing freak slowly strode into the kitchen, soulless, empty holes of blacked out glass staring down at the boy. 

“Yes, as I was saying, he needs branding. I was thinking of something along the lines of our insignia, or RED, I’m sure you can think of something, oui?” 

The Pyro didn’t respond, closing in on the boy in the cage, his movement slow, his head turning and twitching like an insect. The Spy unlocked the cage, grabbing the Scout by the foot and dragging him out, due to the mittens, the boy couldn’t even grab onto the bars. He was scooped up into the Frenchman’s arms, who in turn handed him over to the Pyro. The man was warm, the stench of rubber and burnt plastic reached the boy’s nostrils immediately as he was held awkwardly to the man’s chest. Without a word, the Pyro turned, taking the boy away and back to his quarters. The Spy simply watched his turned back, before lifting the telephone up and dialling the Scout’s mother’s number.

The Pyro’s quarters were similar to the Spies in terms of layout, however, there was a large roaring fire off to the side, surrounded by a short iron gate, next to an iron barred bucket with various tools inside. The Scout shook his head hesitantly as he felt his form dropped down onto the bed, again he immediately went for the door but was punched full force in the face and slammed back down against the mattress. 

The Pyro hit harder than both the Medic and the Spy put together, blood streamed down from the boy’s nostrils, trickling into his mouth and pouring down his chin as he stiffled a sob, pulling away as the overall wearing male grabbed him by his hair brutally and ripped him off the mattress and onto the stone floor. There was no hesitation neither restraint from the Pyro as he shook the boy roughly, pushing his face in against the cold ground with a hand at the back of his head, smearing blood all over the stone surface. He effortlessly pinned the Scout down by the neck with one hand, the other was grabbing for the branding iron, lifting it before taking it to the flame. A simple stamp with the Red’s bomb image, who knows what the standard use was for the tool. The Pyro moved behind the Scout, ripping the panties down from over his now exposed buttocks. The Pyro stamped his boots down onto the back of the boy’s knees, to keep him still.

“Please no, you can’t, stop, you have top STOP!!”

The boy shrieked, feeling the hot brand immediately come in contact with the skin of his right cheek, he screamed and spluttered, kicking his legs desperately as he scrabbled against the floor. To the Pyro it was like watching a fly squirm in the spiders nest, the fear and trapped prey only caused his hunger to grow. Raising the brand from the boy, throwing it into the bucket to the side, he let go, watching as the Scout writhed and squirmed against the floor, choking back sobs of agony as the skin throbbed and stung, the smell of burnt flesh in the air. The Pyro gripped the boy by the collar, lifting his head up and once more staring down at him, a clicking sound from behind the mask followed by another twitch. The Pyro took the boy’s hand, touching it between his gloved fingers, the Scout watched in silent, the fear reflecting in his trembling eyes as he looked up at the man. Suddenly he was yanked, then pulled back, watching as the Pyro walked away. He remained quiet, curling up on the floor and holding his stomach as he sobbed.

“Can I…can I go now? Please?” 

When he looked up, the Pyro peered down at him, in his gloved hands, was some rope. The boy shook his head, begging and pleading as the Pyro gripped his ankles effortlessly in one hand, taking the rope and binding them tightly together. The boy squirmed more, the rope biting into his skin with each struggle. The Pyro wasn’t finished, grabbing each of the Scout’s wrists from behind, pulling them back until he could tie them together behind his bent knees, forcing him into a familiar position of face to the floor, knees bent and buttocks in the air. The man made a few muffled sounds, disappearing, leaving the boy in his binds. The Scout trembled, his buttock stung, his mouth full of blood and his body cramping from the position he was bound in. He tried to shuffle forward to the door, he tried to move his wrists, anything to escape but nothing worked. 

“Please..please..I want to go home.” 

He sobbed, his bottom lip trembling as he pressed his face to the floor, he hadn’t heard the footsteps but immediately screamed when he felt the hot metal serving spoon against the base of his exposed foot, he slumped forward, shrieking out when the boiling hot metal came in contact again, this time the base of his toes then dipping it between the individual gaps between his toes.. The Pyro repeated, pressing the steel against different parts, indulging in the sounds of his prey and watching as the skin grew red raw and agitated. The spoon was lifted before settling on the boy’s upper back, who shrieked again, hoarse sobs escaped him as he slumped forward, begging and pleading for the Pyro to stop. Then, when he thought it was all over, the Pyro proceeded to cup the boy’s balls with the spoon, pressing into them, the Scout’s mouth opened but no sound escaped, he slumped forward, forehead smacking the stone floor. The man raised the spoon only to lower it once more, this time on the inside of his thighs, making him weakly jolt and whimper, slapping it between the boy’s thighs repeatedly. As he did so, he pinched the head of the boys cock turning the panties to the side to allow his balls and length to slide out. He covered the entire length with his fingers, squeezing it roughly before letting go and setting the boiling hot spoon onto the head. Another desperate scream escaped the boy, looking up in time to see the Spy wander casually though the door. 

“And here I was thinking you were going to be a traditional candle wax kind of gentleman.”

He spoke casually, approaching and lowering his form to grip the boys chin, yanking his head up, forcing him to look up at him. The Pyro mumbled, pushing the spoon between the boys buttocks, who squealed against the Spy’s hand. The Frenchman pushed his fingers between the Scouts lips with one hand and stroking his cheek with the other while watching.

“I suppose that would just be a little predictable and as you’d say, cliché.”

The Pyro raised the spoon in a threatening manner at the spy, before throwing it into the fire, he raised his form and took some scissors from the side table, using them to cut the ropes from the boy. The Scout immediately shot to the Spy for protection, the Frenchman almost found it endearing as the boy wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his face against the Spies chest and sobbing hysterically against him. 

“No more..please!”

He cried desperately, the mittens not allowing him to grip, but he pushed them in against the man’s back, who picked him up in his arms and raised into a stand. He nodded to the Pyro.

“You’ve done well, it looks perfect on him. However, do you not want to have your way with him?”

The Scout began to shake his head, feeling the Spies hand as it spread the boy’s cheeks, offering the plugged hole to the Pyro who watched. A slow shake of the head and the masked man turned, moving into the kitchen. 

“…Very well.”

The Frenchman said to the turned back, pulling the boy’s panties up over the brand, holding him to his chest and making his way back to his room. Once there, he sat down on the bed, cradling the boy to his chest, who continued to sob, writhing and whimpering in pain as he tried to cuddle into the Frenchman as close as possible. The Spy sighed, pulling the boys stockings up, turning around and setting him down on his bed, he stroked his skin gently, tucking his genitals back into the panties, the boy only squirmed and turned away from the man, who got impatient and began to slap the boys chest hard. The Scout yelped, the Spy gripping him by his collar and pulling his head up, pulling him back into his lap and holding him there. The Frenchman rolled his eyes.

“..I suppose I better feed you, oui?”


	5. The Blu Scout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really any warnings to list other than the usual Scout abuse.

The smoke from the Spies cigarette was barely noticeable due to the cold air already escaping the Frenchman’s lips. He was walking around the outside of the base, albeit slowly as in the hand which wasn’t occupied by a cigarette was a leash. The Snow had fallen heavily the previous night and it was evident that the boy behind him, was struggling. His wrists were cuffed to the collar around his neck, and each of his legs bent, ankles strapped to a restraint on his upper thighs, leaving the boy unable to unbend his knees, thus the set up forcing him to walk on his knees and elbows. The Scout was completely naked, the brand still red raw from the previous day, and the plug still lodged in tight, some of the Mercs working outside were entertained by the pet, earning him a few slaps on his bare ass or pets in his ruffled hair. 

In his mouth was a drool gag, essentially a hollowed out ball, the strain from the restraints and being forced to move was causing an awful lot of drool to escape the holes of the ball, saliva pouring down the boy’s chin. 

“Well little Mimi, you need to pee, and here I am doing you a favour and taking you out to do just that.” 

The Spy yanked the leash, looking up just in time for a bus to arrive. The Blu team inside, the Russian Bus driver leaned out the window.

“Low on fuel, mind if I siphon from one of your tanks?”

The driver called out to the Engineer, evidently this happened often because the hardhat wandered off to his workship to get the much needed canister of fuel. Meanwhile, the Scout looked up in horror at the Spy, the naked boy had captured the entire buses attention now and the Frenchman stood there, waiting.

“…Well? What are you waiting for?”

The Scout was desperate, and the cold air hadn’t helped on his naked form, he turned to glance at the bus-full, most of it‘s members jeering and shouting crude cat calls at the naked boy. He whimpered, lowering his face to a pile of snow before crouching some, spreading his thighs and beginning to piss right there in the snow.

“That’s right, squat like the little bitch that you are.”

The Spy laughed before tugging the leash, forcing the boy to follow along as the Frenchman approached the bus. 

“I don’t suppose you gentlemen wanted to pet him while you wait?”

Afterall what was wrong with a little friendly competition? The Spies words were met with cheers as the man approached the open door, the Blu Medic passing him, who was on his way to help the red Engineer with the fuel, the Spy continued moving up the steps dragging the boy with him. The bus was quite spacious, an isle down the middle and the seats wide enough for three people either sides. This helped greatly when you had big chaps like the Heavy on board. The boy stared in horror at all the faces looking down at him, the Spy walked him down the isle, latching his leash onto a nearby arm rest, moving to sit down beside the BLU Spy, immediately they exchanged words and chatted like old friends, leaving the boy to the remaining members of BLU. 

Hands came down, petting him all over, stroking his hair, running down his back, between his thighs, pinching nipples, some touched his feet, others smacked his buttocks. It was all happening so quickly that the Scout just couldn’t keep track of who was doing what, his cheeks flushed and his form trembling as he whimpered with humiliation. Suddenly he was dragged forward, gloved hands gripped his face and directed his gaze towards the back of the bus. Strapped down, thighs restrained wide open, ankles bound by rope to either arm of the seat and completely naked was the Blu scout. He was trembling all over, covered in cigarette burns, lashes and bruises, it was evident he’d been kept longer by the Blu than the boy had belonged to the Red, because he was very thin and quite sickly looking. The Blu-boy’s eyes were tired, his gaze showing of fear but also of defeat. 

“We should force them to fuck!”

Shouted the Blu soldier, a hard smack hitting the red Scout’s buttock as he jolted, stumbling forward, another set of hands were unbuckling the boy’s drool-gag, while he was being dragged towards the restrained Blu Scout. He felt hands gripping his head, forcing his face into the Blu scout’s crotch. 

“Suck his cock.”

Ordered the Soldier, whose hands were the ones situated either sides of his head, the Blu Scout shook his head, whimpering as he struggled weakly in his restraints. 

“Go on, give it a lick.”

Suggested the Blu Sniper, who seemed a little less introverted than his Red counter part. The red Scout felt the Australian’s dirty fingers push between his lips, spreading his mouth open either sides while his head was pushed forward onto the waiting cock by the Soldier, soon he tasted the boy’s length, the Australian’s fingers were removed and he backed off so the others could watch. 

“Suck!”

The Soldier ordered loudly, keeping the red Scout’s lips around the blu Scout’s cock. Both Scouts whined and sobbed, surrounded by those loud predatory men, both restrained with nowhere to go or escape. The red Scout felt a huge smack on his ass and he jolted, crying out around the other boy’s cock. 

“I SAID SUCK!”

The Soldier shouted, followed by another smack as the man let go of the boy’s face. The Red scout looked up at the Blu apologetically as he began to suck on his cock, tears ran down his cheeks as held the length in his mouth. The Blu scout whimpered gently, despite the situation his small cock responded to the gentle motions on his length, rocking his hips. It was almost as if the boy was desperate for a gentle touch, just glad to have something touching him that finally felt good. The red Scout continued to suck, lowering his eyes and gasping when he felt somebody pull the plug from behind him.

Every move was being watched and supervised by the Blu Soldier, who’d forced the plug into the Blu Scout’s mouth, holding it there.

“Lick it clean.”

He ordered, the Blu Scout retched, squirming and trying to close his thighs, wrists bound behind his back, his skinny form sweating in panic, he had no choice but to suck the dirty plug, using his tongue to lick it clean. The Red Scout continued suckling on the other boy’s cock, feeling a hand press his face right onto the other boy’s groin, taking in the Blu Scout’s musk of blood, sweat, cum and dirt, the boy hadn’t been washed for days. Suddenly the red Scout yelped out around the other boy’s cock, the Blu Heavy’s finger forced its way into his exposed hole, filling him all the way to the knuckle before sliding out, huge hands then spread the red Scout’s buttocks for all to see his tiny pink pucker. Another finger plunged inside him, moving in and out, smaller than the Heavy’s, the red Scout whimpered and squirmed, desperate to get away. 

“N-No..I-I’mgonna’..”

The Blu Scout managed around the glass butt plug, suddenly jolting, his form spasmed as the orgasm escaped him, he whimpered out pathetically, the Heavy’s hand immediately forced the red Scout’s head onto the cock, forcing him to swallow down every string of hot seed that escaped the other boy. The red Scout choked and spluttered, tears remained running down his cheeks as he shut his eyes. The red Spy continued his conversation with his Blu counterpart, not even paying attention to the events going on behind him. 

“Untie him ladies! Now it’s time for the main event!”

The Blu Sniper began untying the Blu Scout, who fell to the floor in a heap beside his look-alike, his buckteeth and wide eyes made the other Scout think of a frightened rabbit. 

“Bend him over, come on, lets force ‘em to fuck!”

Shouted the Blu Soldier, both boy’s felt hands touching them, rearranging them, they forced the red Scout to bend over presentingly, pushing the Blu Scout towards him, the Blu Scout immediately began to cry, shaking his head, the Red’s reaction not much different. The Soldier was about to force the Blu Scout on top of the other when..

“STOP!! Zhat ist too far!”

The Blu Medic stood at the front of the bus, frowning in disappointment, he moved down the isle, lab coat rising behind him as he walked, he gripped the Soldier’s hat, lifted it then smashed it down on his head. 

“Just vhat are you doing with MY pet? You just ruined my research, I haven’t let that boy cum for MONTHS! Don’t you understand? I have to start over now, und look vhat you’ve done, you’ve ruined it!”

As the Medic shouted at the Soldier, and the rest of the Blu for that matter, both boys huddled up close into a corner, the Blu scout holding the other tightly in his arms, they both sobbed gently against one another, frightened and abused they had nowhere to escape. The red Spy lifted his form, moving to the middle of the isle. 

“Gentlemen, I believe this is where I depart.”

He approached the two boys on the floor, lowering his form to pick up the leash, he pulled, the Red Scout held onto the Blu Scout just long enough for the Blu to whisper into his ear.

“It doesn’t get any better.” 

The red Spy snatched the butt plug from the Heavy, who was admiring the see-thru glass, he gripped the Scout by his hair, yanking him forward before pushing it back into him swiftly, the boy yelped, wincing as the Spy walked with long strides to the front of the bus, dragging him. 

“I will see you all on the battlefield no doubt, if not your faces, most certainly your backs.”

He chuckled, lighting up another cigarette before moving out, dragging the boy across the snowy ground, turning to watch as the bus started up and the Blus made their way to their own base, across the battlefield and into the snowy mountains ahead. The Spy looked down at the boy, who’d collapsed onto the snow covered ground, balled up and sobbing hysterically. He lowered himself, lifting the boy up into his arms and rocking him very so slightly, stroking his hair. 

“If you misbehave boy, I’m going to give you to them.”

He snapped, carrying the Scout back into the base, who remained sobbing and whimpering, even when the Spy removed his restraints, he only continued to weep, clearly traumatised by the days events. The worst part was, that he knew the Blu Scout was right. 

 

_“It doesn’t get any better.”_


	6. The Demoman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad everyone has been enjoying the fic so far, I wasn't sure how people were going to react to it due to the nature of the story.
> 
> Chapter warnings:
> 
> Forced alcohol consumption  
> Usual Scout abuse  
> Forced cross-dressing  
> Humiliation

The Spy wore an apron over his suit, leaning over the bathtub with cigarette dangling precariously between his lips. Hands occupied with keeping the Scout seated within the lukewarm water. He squirmed and splashed, his form trembling, a holed ballgag in his mouth to prevent any verbal complaining. The Frenchman was just done shampooing the boy’s hair, running his fingers though it with gloved hands before washing it out. 

“It’s the Demoman’s birthday, perhaps you’ll distract him from getting too drunk tonight, oui?”

The Spy took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke filtering from between his teeth as he talked, then sighed, fat chance of that. The Scotsman was most likely already drunk, singing away, the other Mercs had only known it was the fella’s birthday because that’d all he’d been singing the past three or four days.

“You’re going to be his entertainment, how very lucky.”

Once the Spy was satisfied with the boy’s hygiene, he lifted him up from the tub with a grunt, the boy allowed himself to be because he knew a soft, fluffy towel was waiting on the counter. The Spy sat him down on the edge and began to towel him down all over, the boy sat still, closing his eyes. Like the Blu Scout, he revelled in any positive attention, behaving when things felt good in the hopes he’d get more rewards in the future. The boy remained shivering, it was freezing with the kitchen window wide open, however the Spy liked him that way, trembling with nipples erect. The Frenchman satisfied, he lifted the boy up, wrapped in the towel and carrying him back to the bedroom, the Scout cuddled in, desperate for any provided warmth the Spy could give him. 

Waiting for him, laid out on the bed was a tiny maid uniform. A skirt so short it could be considered a flared belt, strappy at the top with a matching white apron at the front. As soon as the Scout saw it he was mortified, he began to squirm in the Frenchman’s arms, who was clearly amused by the boy’s reaction, walking over to the bed and setting the boy down onto it. 

Now the boy was dry he immediately got to work dressing him, the Scout intended to make the job as hard as possible. As he felt the man carefully roll up some silky white stockings up his thighs, the Scout wondered just how the man knew all his measurements, so far everything he’d been forced into had fit him perfectly. Of course, looking up at the man’s covered face answered the question, he was a Spy, an expert information gatherer. The Frenchman pulled the frilly white garter belt up around the boy’s hips, clipping the stockings up with the hold ups, but not before sliding the matching white thong up the boy’s legs and snapping the lacy fabric back between the boy’s buttocks, who whimpered with humiliation, closing his eyes tightly and pretending he was somewhere else. The Scout squirmed when the Spy pulled the tiny maid outfit over his head, pulling it down until it rested perfectly on the boy’s hips, adjusting the straps at the shoulders, he pinched the boy’s nipple though the fabric and was rewarded with a jolt followed by a muffled yelp. He pulled the skirt down, the tiny article of clothing barely covered his buttocks, which stuck out underneath. The final touch was a pair of shoes, patent and black with a two inch stiletto heel. If the boy wasn’t mortified enough, they fit his feet perfectly as the Spy slipped them onto his feet like some kind of twisted Prince from Cinderella. Where the hell did the Frenchman get all this shit? 

 

“Now, lets see you walk.”

 

The Spy backed up, watching the boy rise into a stand, immediately the shoes pinched at his toes as they were forcefully scrunched up in the toe spaces. He wobbled, trembling as he took a step, his strong ankles burning, unused to the pressure on the base of his toes. The Frenchman stepped back, lighting up another cigarette, the boy swore the man was a chain smoker, however right now the man’s health was the least of his concerns. 

 

“Now, walk towards me.”

 

He waited, walking as the boy slowly took some steps over to the Frenchman, wobbling as he went. He had excellent balance, only stumbling forward once and tumbling into the Spies arms as he caught the boy. The man held him up, stepping back and having the boy walk towards him again, once the Spy was satisfied, he nodded his head towards the door. 

“Lets go see the birthday boy, shall we?”

The Scout took a step back this time, heel scraping as he tried to turn, but the Frenchman grabbed his wrist, pulling him up by his mittened hands. The Scout shook his head, protesting around the hollow ballgag as the man practically dragged him to the door. 

“Ah! I almost forgot!”

The Spy moved off to the kitchen, opening the freezer and taking out a bottle of vodka, Russian and only the best! He held it by the neck, feeling the cold even with his leather gloved fingers. Walking to the door, he grabbed the boy’s wrist once more, dragging him out, the Scout had no choice but to stumble after him. 

First they checked the Demoman’s room and much to the Scout’s horror, the man wasn’t there, which meant he was either in the mess hall or the communal area with the rest of the mercs. The latter was correct, sat around the fireplace, they were talking amongst themselves, the Pyro enamoured by the flickering flames before his form. 

 

“Gentlemen.”

 

Announced the Spy, stepping in with the Scout in tow, the boy’s face immediately flushed a brilliant red as all the mercs turned, eyeing up his scantily clad form as if he was a piece of meat.

 

“Damn spook.”

 

The Sniper muttered gently from his corner, as usual the Bushman was keeping to himself, nursing the #1 Sniper mug between his hands. The Demoman held a bottle of whiskey up, giving a woop woop, everyone had gotten him booze except the Medic, who’d instead bought him a book on giving up booze. 

“What is this? Bloody beaut, that’s what it is!”

He hollered, approaching the Scout who wanted to puff his chest out, punch this fucker in the face and hightail it outta’ here, instead he moved awkwardly behind the Spy, who simply stepped to the side to reveal his scantily clad form once more, as he handed the Demoman the bottle of vodka.

“Room service!”

Hollared the drunk excitedly, spitting in the Scout’s face and grabbing the boy by the wrist, the Scout squirmed, shaking his head, eyes pleading to the Spy who rolled his shoulders in a subtle shrug before moving and going to sit beside the Sniper, just to make the Australian feel awkward. Sir Hoots-a-lot on his shoulder would probably provide the Frenchman with more conversation than the Bushman himself. 

The Demoman dragged the Scout, whose heels clicked as he walked down the stone hallway, moving to the man’s room. The Scotsman was clearly excited about his present from the Spy, swinging his door open and ushering the boy though. The place was kept surprisingly tidy, crates of booze off to one side, far away from the explosives off to the other side. The bed hadn’t been made however and this was the first job for the Scout.

“Make it nice, ya?”

The Demoman bellowed over the sound of the bottle of vodka being opened, motioning towards the bed. The Scout looked down at his mittened hands, then glanced to the Demoman who simply watched expectantly. The boy turned around and started work on the bed, he flattened the duvet out carefully, having to bend over the bed to do so, giving the Scotsman a good view of his exposed buttocks as the skirt rode up revealing all. The man pressed the ice cold bottle against his branded cheek, causing the Scout to jump, stumbling on his heels before continuing to make the bed, eventually finishing. He turned around, lowering his shoulders as he tried to flatten the skirt of his uniform down, though  
the fabric did nothing to hide those long, stocking clad legs. 

The Demoman was looking him up and down as he staggered backwards, lowering himself to a seat by his desk. He patted his knee with one hand, motioning the boy over with the other, who hesitantly obeyed. The Scout lowered himself onto the man’s knee, who turned and wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in closer against his lap, he took a huge swig of the Vodka bottle before offering it to the boy, suddenly realising he was still gagged. The drool gag had holes, so the boy could still breath though the mouth and this gave the Scotsman an idea. He gripped the boy by the back of his hair, pulling his head back before tipping the vodka against the holed openings of the gag, the boy’s mouth already forced wide open by the ball, he had no choice but to cough, splutter and eventually swallow down the liquid. It was both hot and cold in his mouth, it stung his tongue and burned down his throat. His face wrinkled up and he choked back a sob, drool and vodka trickling from the holes as he desperately tried to expel the liquid. This amused the Demoman, who, after taking a swig himself, pushed the bottle once more to the boy’s gag, forcing him to drink it down. 

“Ye, that’s a good laddy, swallow it up, there’s more where that came from!”

As he spoke he fondled the boy though the silky fabric of his thong, his large fingers caressing and groping hungrily as the boy squirmed in discomfort, trying to lower his mittened hands down to the front of his skirt. He was powerless against the drunk, who forced yet another mouthful of vodka down the unwilling boy’s throat, who retched and choked, eyes watering as he shook his head, pleading for the man to stop. If only the Scotsman had been addicted to energy drinks like he was, this would have made the situation a whole lot easier!

“Gon’take a lot to get yew’ as drunk as me, lad!”

He laughed, gripping the boy’s hair and yanking it hard before pushing him onto the floor. 

“Bend over.”

The man commanded, the Scout turned his head, staring up at him, was he serious? The Demoman took a swig of the bottle before repeating himself, his tone considerably more stern.

“Bend. Over.”

The Scout lowered his shoulders like a frightened dog, turning his form around before bending his knees, raising his buttocks and pressing his cheek to the dusty floor. The Demoman watched contentedly, leaning back in his seat and relaxing as he raised his boots and lowered them onto the boy’s raised buttocks. 

“This is the life, you hear? Bitch at my feet, booze in my hand, only thing aaamm missing is music an’ a tv screen or sommant, a good movie!”

The Scout remained silent, his mouth still hot and drool still pouring from the gag, feeling it trickle down his chin and pour onto the floor. 

“Gun be more booze than that to get yew drunk laddie, got a plan though, don’t worry, you’ll catch up with me!”

After a small while passed he raised his boots, gripping the boy by his collar and yanking him up over his lap on his belly. He stroked down the Scout’s back gently, then up his neck, stroking his hair and rubbing his form, it felt quite good and the Scout relaxed some. …Well, he did until he felt the drunk’s free hand on his skirt, lifting it up and pulling the thong down to his knees, revealing that plugged hole. The boy began to shake his head, feeling cold fingers pry the plug out, setting it aside elsewhere, he pushed his thumb into the boy’s now exposed hole, who squirmed slightly, closing his eyes and breathing slowly though his mouth. 

“That feel good, lad?”

The Demoman whispered huskily as he slid his thumb out and inserted it again, curling it inside the boy who whimpered and rolled his hips gently. That thumb slipped out, fingers moving to part the boy’s buttocks when the Scout felt the cold bottle head push between those cheeks then suddenly forced inside him, he jolted up with a scream, the ice cold bottle was pushed into his anus roughly, the liquid inside beginning to pour into him. The Demoman made sure the entire bottle to the neck was inserted, watching as the vodka disappeared, draining though the boy’s rectum into his bowls. He screamed desperately into the gag, the ice cold feeling completely numbing his anus as he kicked his feet and tried to thump the man’s legs with his mittened fists. The vodka would be absorbed directly into the boy’s bloodstream, eventually reaching the liver. He was already beginning to get dizzy, his head swaying, when he opened his eyes the world kept repeatedly moving upwards wherever he looked, causing him to feel nauseous, his head was swimming, producing more drool from between his lips. The Demoman raised the bottle from between the boy’s buttocks, vodka pissing out from his numb anus as the man sloppily shoved the butt plug back in to keep him sealed up. Then, he suddenly forced the boy into a stand, laughing as he staggered in the heels, then fell to the floor. 

“Come on, get up ya floozy!”

He kicked the boy in the groin hard, when the Scout opened his eyes he saw stars, his form convulsing in agony as he tried to crawl away across the floor, the skirt riding up hiding any modesty and relieving the boy of any remaining dignity. He reached the door and the Demoman effortlessly caught up to him, the back of his collar grabbed he pulled him up from the floor and threw him onto the bed.

“Look at you, yer’ so bloody drunk! What a drunk’desperate whore!”

He laughed, watching as the boy squirmed and writhed on the bed, hiccupping around the gag as he choked back more sobs, closing his eyes tightly, dizzy and unable to see or think straight.

“Can’t be good being drunk on the job.”

The Demoman leaned in, whispering into the boy’s ear before licking the length of the orifice, stroking his hands down the vulnerable boy’s body, kissing his neck and down his chest. The Scout shook his head, convulsing and writhing against the duvet, his arms raised, trying to support himself as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the dizziness he felt. He moaned loudly, then screamed around the gag, desperately trying to call for help as the man pulled the thong off the rest of the way, a hand snaking up his tiny skirt and feeling the boy, groping him. The Scout felt so dirty and violated, sobbing gently as the Scotsman raised a hand to wipe the drool from his chin.

“Wassa’ matter little sweetheart? Drank too much for you to handle? What a state.”

He wobbled himself, lifting his form from the boy to get another bottle. He opened it up, taking a swig before pouring it down onto the boy’s face. The Scout flinched, before smelling the drunk’s hot breath as the Demoman leaned in, his tongue lapping all over the boy’s freckled face, licking the booze up from his skin. He lifted the Scout’s skirt up, exposing his small flaccid cock, he poured more whiskey down on his length and between his thighs, causing the boy to squirm in discomfort, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the Scotsman’s lips on his cock. He surprised himself by moaning gently, bucking his hips, desperate for more of the gentle affection and pleasure. He got it when the man poured more between the boy’s now spread thighs, gripping them roughly and keeping the boy forcefully spread, he licked the boy all over, between his thighs, around his plugged asshole and sucked the booze from his cock.

Eventually the man grew tired from all the drink, he stumbled down onto the bed beside the Scout, curling in and wrapping his arms around the boy, he lazily kissed the back of his neck, whispering and slurring all kinds of things into the Scout’s ear before eventually drifting off into a drunken sleep. The Scout lay there in silence, held by the man, at least he was warm and comforting, he closed his eyes, relaxing into the warm chest and soft duvet beneath, his crotch throbbed from the kick, but the heat from the sucking and licking eased him, eventually he too fell asleep, however no doubt he’d feel it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the new year I will be taking requests of fics like this one of the same nature. 
> 
> Run your ideas past me and will see what I can do. The only things I will not write are children, animals and really messy scat. [ Enema scat is fine. ] 
> 
> xxx
> 
> Another note and something I feel the need to address. Recently I've seen a lot of artists and writers being attacked for the things they write and draw. Just because an artist draws or writes something it doesn't mean they would condone it in real life. Just because I write this kind of fiction it does not mean I want to go out and preform any of the acts within this fic. The word Fiction means just that, it is fiction, it is the same with the word artwork, it is just artwork. Fictional, not real.
> 
> The argument can go the same with violent movies and video games. Just because somebody plays GTA it doesn't mean they're going to go out and shoot a load of people and just because somebody enjoys watching slasher flicks it doesn't mean they're going to get a butcher knife and kill everyone.
> 
> There are clear warnings on all my fictions that contain dubious content, if any of the content offends you steer clear of it.
> 
> Never feel guilty for the things you enjoy to draw and write, as long as it isn't harming anyone it's okay, remember that and keep doing what you enjoy!


	7. The Sniper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains the following:
> 
> \- A LOT of piss.  
> \- Feral behaviour.  
> \- The usual Scout abuse
> 
> Note: The Sniper in this chapter is one of my own characters, he's a miserable, reclusive git whose spent perhaps a little too much time in the wilderness.

The morning came like a swift kick in the face, the Scout blinked back the crust of sleep, his vision blurred as he struggled to comprehend where he was. It only took a few moments before he saw the coloured chap’s arms around his shoulders, cuddling him like a rag doll. They’d slept though the night, it was very early morning, the sun only beginning to rise. The boy’s head pounded, his mouth dry and the skin of his lips cracked where the gag was still forcefully lodged between them. He looked to the door, realising that the drunken man hadn’t locked it the night before, this was his chance. Carefully wiggling out from the man’s arm, who simply grunted and rolled onto his other side, the boy kicked the heels off from his feet, his frame still scantily clad in that maid uniform he looked around for something to cover himself up in. Due to his mittened hands, opening the wardrobe was a task on it’s own but the Scout eventually opened it up, scooping out a long, red and what looked to be some kind of pirate coat. He threw it over his form, the coat was much too big but it’d help in both protecting his dignity and his body from the cold. 

He made his way to the door, his stomach groaning gently, he hadn’t been fed since after the Pyro encounter and there was some chocolate left on the side, he resisted, his escape came first, eating came later. He pulled the door handle down with a mittened hand and just as he suspected it was unlocked, he slowly opened it, checking for a squeak that never came before slipping out quietly, the Demoman none the wiser of his escape. The Scout began to sneak down the hallway, the silky stockings aiding him in his quiet movement, everybody was asleep. The next step was finding a weapon, something to defend himself and as if somebody up there was listening, leaning against the wall beside the front door was his baseball bat. He crept over to it, still carefully looking around, there were cameras but they didn’t seem to be functioning, no movement or lights and no alarms had sounded off. He picked the bat up, then brought a hand to the front door, opening it a crack and peering outside. He’d expected somebody to be on guard duty and he carefully stuck his head out to check for sentries, only to find there was nothing but the cold and snow to greet him. 

He took one step outside and immediately the cold hit him, causing him to loosely clutch the coat with his mittened hand, holding it to his chest and gripping the bat’s handle tightly with the other. The snow absorbed into the base of his stockings, soaking them, his toes were numb in moments, but that didn’t stop him as he began to walk quickly to the gates, worried if he ran he’d trigger some kind of motion detector, it pays to be paranoid in his line of work. The gate was in sight now, he picked up the pace, breathing heavily though the mouth holes in his gag, which caused him to drool. How was he going to explain his get up and predicament when he escaped and bumped into somebody? 

“Not another step you little weasel.”

He wouldn’t have to worry about explaining his predicament, for he’d been so busy going for the gate he hadn’t noticed the watch tower to the left of him, he followed the sound of that Australian voice, his eyes widening and his form going still as he saw the rifle, knowing full well if he made any sudden moves now he’d be dead. 

“Drop the bat.”

The Scout reluctantly did as he was told, dropping the bat to his feet and instinctively raising his mittened hands into the air, watching as the man climbed down the tower, rifle on his back. The red Sniper was tall and very slender, his skin, despite being sun kissed was unhealthy and he always had huge bags under his eyes, which were visible even with the tinted yellow sunglasses. He always wore a red shirt, which was trimmed with leather accents, tassels on the sleeves and trims like some kind of red Indian wannabe. The reclusive man stood in front of the boy, his mouth seemed to be twisted in a constant miserable sneer as he looked him up and down. He gripped the lapel of the Demoman’s coat, pulling it from the boy’s shoulder to reveal the scantily clad form underneath, immediately putting two and two together that the boy had snuck out while the drunken man slept. He moved behind the Scout and shoved his shoulder, urging him to walk forward, the Scout did as he was told, trembling as he walked. The Sniper directed him, keeping the boy in front at all times in order to keep an eye on him. 

They walked until they reached his camper van, just off to the side of the base, the roof was covered in a thick layer of snow, which suggested it hadn’t moved in a while. The Sniper unlocked the side door, pushing the boy into the small space inside. A tiny kitchen and a sliding door next to it, which the Scout assumed lead to a toilet of some kind. There was a lot of floorspace, a bed off to the side and a wooden bookshelf above it, attached to the wall, next to the bed was a line of jars full of a yellow murky substance. It was carpeted and there was a deerskin rug on the floor, there was a distinctive smell of coffee and general uncleanliness, most likely due to the pile of dishes off to one side and a dirty pile of washing sprawled out across the floor and over filling a basket. The Scout turned his nose up a little, feeling the Sniper push him to sit on the bed before dragging up a chair and sitting himself in front of the boy, not long after he’d hung his rifle up behind him. 

“Truth be told? That damn spook told me I ain’t gonna’ never lay a hand on you.”

As he spoke he rested his gloved hand onto the boy’s leg, sliding up the silky stocking and gently snapping the hold up against the boy’s inner thigh. He leaned in closer, removing his glasses to reveal those ruby red visuals of his. 

“Looks like I’m gonna prove him wrong, ain’t it, lad?” 

He licked the boy’s cheek, then down his neck, pushing his weight onto him as he stood up, causing the Scout to fall onto his back, the boy groaned, shaking his head as the Bushman grabbed his wrists, pulling him up and throwing him down onto the deerskin rug. 

“You know what male Porcupines do when they encounter another that they wanna’ make their property?”

He slurred, pulling the coat from the boy entirely to reveal that writhing scantily clad frame, the Scout shook his head, his eyes full of fear. If his head wasn’t already pounding hard it was now. He whimpered in confusion and discomfort as the man pushed his nose to the boy’s armpit, sniffing him like some kind of wild animal. He didn’t stop there, he began to sniff the boy all over, nuzzling and licking the bare skin. The Scout protested around the gag but was only rewarded with more strange behaviour. The Bushman nudged his cheek to the boy’s whispering into his ear.

“They get a real good sniff of ‘em, and then they mark ‘em…”

He sat up on his knees, unzipping his pants, as he did so the Scout began trying to get up, but was shoved back down onto his back, followed by a swift punch in the face. The Sniper pulled his cock out, gripping the base and aiming it at the boy as he began to urinate, a long stream of hot piss coating the boy. He lifted his form over the Scout, making sure to completely drench him all over, his face, his neck, down his chest, his belly, the stream seemed to go on forever like the man had been holding it in. The maid uniform stuck to the boy like a second skin, the sour stench filled the air and the Scout hiccupped gently as his shoulders rose and fell with his sobs, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

“Now everyone will know who you belong to, boy.”

He sneered, before immediately mounting the boy, forcing his body on top of his and his legs between the Scout’s forcefully spread thighs. He soaked his own chest in the process but didn’t seem to care. Beneath the skirt the boy wasn’t wearing any underwear as the Demoman had removed that thong the previous night, the Sniper pushed his cock to the boy’s hole only to find that it was plugged. He growled in frustration, ripping the plug out, which caused the boy to squeal around the gag, traces of vodka leaking out of his sore hole. The Sniper didn’t seem to notice, levelling himself up with the waiting anus and forcing his half flaccid cock in awkwardly. He pinned the boy down tightly, immediately biting his neck, sinking his teeth in and chewing aggressively, this caused the Scout to scream out hysterically from behind the gag, rocking his form and trying to thump his captor’s back with his mittened fists. The Sniper forced his entire length in, which was now rock hard from the feeling of the boy struggling against him, the frightened boy’s reactions were just perfect to the Bushman who began to thrust into the boy so aggressively that the Scout’s body skidded across the floor in the process. The boy screamed with each thrust, the man only stopped biting in order to lick at the bleeding wound. The flesh was ripped up, coiling back away from the hole the man had made, leaving red raw skin and exposed muscle beneath. When he was done licking, he bit again, growling as he continued to rape the boy violently without any relent. 

The Scout’s screams turned into small wails, his throat hoarse and his eyes stinging, foggy with tears, his head swimming from the cocktail of his hangover and the current pain he was experiencing. He was completely powerless against the Australian who was considerably stronger than he looked. The man continued to rut the boy, a feral look in his ruby eyes as he stared down at him, it was the kind of look that a lion gave when it saw a gazelle, predatory and wild. His form shuddered, suddenly pounding harder before the Scout felt the man orgasm against him, the Sniper clutched the boy’s throat tightly, pinning his body down as he ejaculated into him, forcing his entire length inside and holding it there. He panted, looking down at the Scout who was loosing consciousness as the Bushman squeezed his throat tighter and tighter. Then it all went blank.

Xxx

A few hours passed when the boy awoke, realising he was still on his back, he twitched one of his feet, he was unable to move his upper body, he realised there was a weight on his chest and neck. He blinked back as his vision began to get clearer, the Sniper coming into view above him, the man was perched on his upper chest, knees bent either sides of his head, then a sour, salty taste suddenly hit the back of his throat and he gulped loudly, retching. During his unconsciousness the Bushman had removed his gag and replaced it with his cock, the man’s dirty fingers were forced either sides of the boy’s mouth to stop him from biting his length and keeping his mouth nice and wide open. Just how much piss did this man have in him? The boy whimpered and coughed around the Bushman’s cock as he continued to piss down his throat, watching as it bubbled up and poured down the corners of the boy’s lips and drooled from his nostrils. When the Australian was done he removed his length, wiping it on the boy’s face in a claiming manner before grabbing the boy by the hair, lifting his head up and smashing it down against the floor, the Scout squirmed desperately like a worm from a bird, but the man continued, the boy soon lost consciousness once more.

Xxx

When the Scout eventually awoke he felt a softness against his bent knees, he slowly looked around, his vision blurry and his head pounding, the boy was disorientated, bile rising in his throat. One of his piss soaked stockings had been removed and was now crammed into his mouth, forcing him to constantly taste the Sniper on his tongue, his lips duct taped shut, the tape wrapped around his head. He murmured, realising he was sitting up, his knees were bent beneath him and thighs were spread. He realised now he was completely naked save the one stocking, each of his wrists were tied to his ankles behind him with rough rope, causing his back to bend slightly, it was then, with a jolt he realised that his asshole was full, but it wasn’t a plug inside him. He looked around the room, whimpering and sobbing as the Sniper appeared from the bathroom, just his shirt on and naked from the waist down, the Bushman approached and didn’t speak, his hands beginning to possessively touch the boy all over. 

“You like having my rifle inside you, little rabbit?”

He whispered as he moved in close, his chest pressed to the Scout’s as he licked and sucked the boy’s Adam’s apple. The boy’s eyes widened in shock, behind him, propped up against the bed and kept steady with the stand locked in against the bed post was the Sniper’s rifle, the Scout impaled with the barrel up his ass. He immediately began to panic, violently shivering as he pleaded with murmurs and sobs. 

“Best keep real still…the safetys off.”

The Sniper whispered before taking the front of the boy’s throat between his teeth, growling as he clamped his jaw shut around the flesh, causing the boy’s murmurs to become more hysterical screams of agony. The Sniper felt something warm against his own groin and he let go only to look down, the boy had pissed himself in fear, pooling down between the Bushman’s thighs and into the bed sheets. The Australian saw this as a challenge, like a male dog pissing on another male dogs territory, he grabbed the boy’s cock hard between his fingers, causing a shrill squeal to escape the Scout. The Sniper leaned in once more, his voice full of gravel, whispered words uttered from between clenched teeth.

“Fuck the rifle, boy.”

He snarled, the Scout lowering his shoulders and shaking his head, panicking as sweat poured down his face and naked back in visible beads. He did it though, obeying the Bushman he slowly began to lower himself moreso onto the rifle’s barrel before sliding back up. 

“More.”

The Scout began to fuck himself on the barrel harder, desperate to please the man, to stop him from hurting him, he closed his eyes tightly feeling the Australian move away from him as he worked the length of the barrel as quickly as he could, desperate to please the violent Sniper. Suddenly he felt something cold and wet splash over him, coating his form, before it happened again, opening his eyes he realised the Bushman was opening up the jars of piss from the floor and throwing them over his form as he fucked the rifle, he kept fucking the barrel, sobbing loudly and howling in misery as he endured the predicament. A jar was thrown at his head and it all went dark, the boy knocked unconscious once more. 

Xxx

Hours had passed and the Scout was slowly waking up. Everything was very…very cold, his entire body felt numb and tingly, and everything ached. He was no longer tied down and slowly he lifted his head, he could see the base, blinking carefully and looking around. There was a chain attached to his collar and he knew now that he was outside in the snow, the chain attached to the camper van. As he crawled away there was patches of blood from his anus and throat, his body violently trembling as he coughed and retched. 

“H-Help?”

He whispered, surprising himself when he realised he wasn’t gagged, his voice croaked and his throat sore, he opened his mouth and began to scream.


	8. Archimedes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NO Scout is not gonna' get fucked by Archimedes.

Everything had gone black, the cold had taken over and the red Scout accepted death as he believed it took him. One of his first impressions of death was that it was very soft and fluffy, blinking back carefully, his vision blurry and his head dizzy. Death smelt really sterile too and everything was white, was he in heaven? Lifting himself up a little more he felt a tug, wincing as his mittened hand came to the collar around his neck, slinking his covered, sore and numb fingers down along the length of what felt like a thick chain. Blinking more rapidly now everything became clear, he wasn't dead at all, he was in the Medic's office. He looked down and realised in horror that he was chained to the wall by his collar and his body was lying, instinctively curled up in a large, fleece lined dog bed. Knowing now that the nightmare wasn't over hit him like a ton of bricks and his bottom lip immediately began to quiver, looking around desperately, his body felt weak and fragile and his head pounded so hard he was having difficulty seeing straight. The wounds the Sniper had caused on his body had been treated, a bandage around his neck beneath his collar and a dull ache were both fine reminders of the Huntsman's feral behaviour. 

"Help me please."

His voice cracked, hoarse from screaming. His body at least was clean and as he lifted himself, he discovered to his horror that he wasn't naked, but had been put in an adult diaper. This caused him to begin sobbing, curling his legs closed and curling tightly in the luxuriously soft fleece, the worst of the humiliation had hit him when he realised he'd wet himself while sleeping and that the diaper he was lying in was damp against his form. He held his hands to his face and simply lay there crying his little heart out, absolutely miserable, he wished the Sniper had just killed him, taken him away from this nightmare and put him out of his misery. 

He eventually stopped, exhausting himself he lay there, staring forward, a hand covering his sore red nose, his lips dry and chapped and his body aching from the convulsing of his form during his sobs, then as silence befell the infirmary, a soft cooing was heard followed by the fluttering of wings. The Scout couldn't sit up, so he remained curled in, he turned his head up to see a beautiful white dove. The tiny thing was all fluffy, cold, it'd elongated it's feathers over its feet and it looked as though it might have been wearing a little night dress. The dove blinked those glossy black eyes before gently fluttering down closer to the boy, perching on the edge of the dog bed. It ruffled it's form, tail feathers shaking before beginning to preen. Another soft coo escaped the dove, a low rumble before gently picking at the boy's hair, the Scout flinched and the sudden movement frightened the dove off with a loud flutter, more coos heard and more feathers ruffling as the sudden movement from the lone dove had startled the others. The Scout turned his head, looking across the room and up at the ceiling. The rafters were full of the birds, preening one another, some all puffed up and cuddled in close, They looked like sweet little ghosts! 

"I see you're awake."

Came a voice, the German accent unmistakable, the boy snapped his attention to the Doctor standing in the kitchen doorway, immediately the Scout began to frantically tremble, soft cries escaping him as he backed up on the bed, the Medic approached, stopping only to kneel in front of the boy, gently lowering a hand down to stroke his hair.

"Sssh..don't cry, it's okay. You're safe."

He said gently, stroking the Scout's hair, down his cheek and the side of his neck in a soothing manner, the boy huddled himself up into the far corner of the bed, frightened and with nowhere to go, he had no choice but to allow the man to touch him. 

"..I'm sorry if Archimedes frightened you, he just thought you might have had some food for him."

The Medic chuckled, stroking the Scout's cheek with the back of his knuckles, who stifled another sob, bringing a mittened hand up to weakly push the man away, the Doctor remained smiling now glancing to the diaper. 

"I couldn't risk you urinating in my clinic, it's not very...clinical." 

He grinned, lowering a hand to pet the front of the boy's padded crotch, who squirmed and pulled away, whining in humiliation as he curled his knees in. The Medic went back to stroking the boy's hair before lifting himself into a stand, turning and moving to the hidden away kitchen area.

"I'm going to get you something to eat."

His voice airily floated as he walked away, the Scout's stomach groaned in response to the mention of food. There was silence that followed other than the soft cooing from the doves above, the Doctor returned with a bowl and a spoon. The Scout reached for it immediately, trying to lift his head but the short chain prevented him, keeping him captive to the bed. The Medic knelt down once more, spooning up some of the mushed substance and held it to the boy's lips. The Scout's cheeks immediately flushed, glaring at the Medic who simply edged the spoon closer, he was considering protesting, but food was food and he was starving. The boy wrapped his lips obediently around the spoon, sucking the mush and licking at the metal desperately. It was only honey porridge but it tasted like the nectar of Gods to the exhausted, starving Scout. He whimpered, lifting a mittened hand up to the Doctor impatiently who only chuckled as he spooned up another mouthful, holding it to the boy's lips who ate with vigour, the feeling of that warm substance going down his throat felt like nothing else, it was incredible, it soothed him, warmed him up and made him feel a little human again. He opened his mouth impatiently for more just as a few doves flew down, landing on the Medic's shoulders, curious about the food. The Medic brought the spoon to the Scout's lips once more, tears running down the boy's cheeks in gratitude to the kind treatment the man was giving him. 

"..Thank you."

He whispered gently to the Doctor when the man set the now empty bowl down, his throat cracking as his form trembled weakly. The Medic only smiled gently, lowering his head to kiss the boy on the forehead. 

"Get some sleep."

The Doctor ordered, moving over to his desk, sitting down and beginning to go though paperwork. 

xxx

When the Scout woke up, the man was still working at his desk, the room seemed darker and the ceiling lights had kicked in. He groaned, curling his form and bringing a hand awkwardly to his face, turning his head to the side and coming face to face with the Spy, who was crouched beside the bed. The Scout jolted, pulling against the chain and panicking as the Frenchman gripped a handful of the boy's hair, holding him still. He shook the Scout, yanked his head up and slapped him in the mouth. He felt a gloved hand grab him by the back of his neck, pulling the skin up and bringing the boy's face inches from his own.

"Thought you could try and escape, did you boy?"

He spat angrily into the frightened Scout's face, who was so panicked and scared that he pissed himself, feeling the warmth between his thighs in the diaper. He immediately began to cry, looking to the Medic for help, only managing to make hoarse little sounds in fear. 

"You're going to be punished, boy."

He yanked the Scout close to his face once more, revelling in that panicked expression of pure fear before letting go of him, letting him fall back on the bed, unclipping the chain from the collar and lifting him up into his arms. The Medic remained with his back turned, keeping out of it and evidently not wanting to get involved, the Doctor rarely showed his gentle side, however the sinister grin which crossed his features now showed everything but. The confusion and confliction of the kind treatment, and now the aggressive abuse from the Spy was everything in the good Doctor's plan, lead the brat into a false sense of security then smash him back to reality like a ton of bricks, the best way to break the human mind was to give it a taste of things it couldn't keep. 

The Spy began walking, ascending the stairwell before arriving at the dorm corridors, he passed his own room, only stopping at the door closest to the main entrance, knocking. There was a moment of silence until the door swung open and the Scout immediately froze in horror.

"...'Ello cupcake."

Said the Soldier.


	9. The Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following content ahead:
> 
> Hardcore spanking  
> Vomit  
> Forced self-mutilation  
> Boot licking  
> Other usual Scout abuse

The Spy stepped into the Soldier’s room, which wasn’t much different to the other’s, save the huge American flag and everything was packed away nice and tidy. To the side of the door was a safety pack, loaded with rations, ammunition and other essentials, perhaps encase they got snowed in or they had to make a swift exit. The Scout looked around the room with the same fear he was growing used to accepting as his default emotion. 

“Lets take a look at you, Sweetheart.”

The American said with a shit eating grin, the Spy handed the boy over, happy to have the weight off his arms and stepping back to watch the man cradle the Scout to his chest. The boy squirmed, a mittened hand reaching for the Frenchman as he mouthed “None more, none more” hoping that his lack of speech would be enough to win the Spy over, however the Frenchman was having none of it as he turned and moved to the door, pressing a hand to the frame.

“Be sure to keep him in one piece.”

Was all he said before slipping out gracefully, shutting the door behind him and leaving the two. The Soldier was still grinning, his free hand running over the Scout’s body.

“You got excellent form Son, but not fit for the battlefield, no Siree! This is a man’s War.”

As he spoke he lowered himself to lay the boy down on the floor, who rolled onto his stomach and shuffled back and away from the Soldier who approached once more.

“I know boys with bodies like yours, seen plenty of them in the war! You’re built for pleasure, look at you, bet you’d make a killing on stage, boy!”

The Scout shook his head, shuffling back as he felt a boot on the front of his padded crotch, applying pressure, a cruel reminder that he was still sat in a soiled diaper. He lowered a mittened hand onto the boot, shaking his head.

“Don’t..please..I just..I just want to go home.”

He whispered gently, his voice coming out a lot more pathetically than intended, the Soldier looked down at him, raising a hand to remove his own helmet before swinging it onto the bed. 

“No use being homesick now boy, get to work.”

He pointed at his boot. It looked as though the man had just been on a walk in the woods because the leather was dull, mud and small sticks stuck in the rubber soles. He presented the boot in front of the boy, stamping it down inches in front of his crotch between his thighs before edging it forward.

“On your hands and knees and do what you were put on this planet for, boy.”

He ordered, grinning as the Scout backed up, lowering his back as he sat on his knees. He’d learned to obey quickly, these men were violent and though he didn’t want to go back to the Medic’s office in a hurry, he didn’t want to get hurt either. The boy’s tongue gently rolled out, licking the toe cap.

“That’s right boy, you lick Daddy’s boot, just like that, what’d I tell you to do?”

The Scout looked up at him, his cheeks flushed as he whispered, his voice cracking.

“Lick Daddy’s boot.”

The Soldier laughed gruffly, pushing his boot into the boy’s cheek.

“Go on, give it a good suck.”

He urged, watching as the Scout wrapped his lips around the toe section, sucking as he worked his tongue on the leather, desperately lathering it up with spit in order to make the surface as clean as possible. 

“C’mere Cupcake.”

The Soldier backed up, lowering himself into a seat and resting the heel of his boot to the ground, presenting the sole, the boy crawled, following the boot, staring in horror at the thick wet mud, twigs and grass sticking out of the treads. 

“What you waiting for?”

The man snapped impatiently, watching as the Scout reluctantly lowered his cheek to the floor, parting his lips and beginning to lick the mud and dirt, pressing his teeth to scrape at the rubber. He gulped noisily, retching at the taste as it latched onto his tongue, he worked the mud out of the gaps with his teeth, coughing it drooled down his chin. 

“That’s right boy, swallow it down, make sure them boots are nice and clean. Whadduyousay?”

He snapped, the boy looking up at him with wide eyes, unsure of how to respond, his mouth hanging open as drool mixed with mud trickled down his trembling bottom lip. He received a kick in the face, which sent his form across the floor, hitting the wardrobe.

“You say Thank you Sir for the pleasure of licking your boots clean!”

He shouted, watching impatiently as the Scout began to pick himself up, pushing himself into the corner of the room and bringing his mittened hands up to his face, the Soldier approached, looking down at the cornered boy, he frowned. The diaper had leaked, dripping down between the mortified Scout’s thighs, he sobbed gently looking away from the Soldier who pressed a boot to the boy’s buttocks. 

“…Did the little baby have an accident? That’s unacceptable!”

He shouted, his boot colliding with the Scout’s stomach, who doubled over on his side, retching loudly as bile began to fill his mouth. He shook his head as the man crouched down, gripping the back of the boy’s diaper and ripping it clean off, throwing it to the side and leaving the Scout naked and vulnerable. He pulled the boy’s hands away from his throbbing stomach, before applying a swift punch to the Scout’s gut. This time he rolled onto his front, hands propping him up as he vomited that fresh porridge, coughing as he sobbed, tears running down his cheeks as he retched a second time, his bottom lip trembling as he looked up at the Soldier. The military man was not amused, immediately he gripped the Scout by his hair, slamming his face into the porridge.

“You better make that disappear, boy.”

He growled, the man had never been a fan of mess, making a mess in quarters that wasn’t your own was completely disrespectful and he would have none of it. He held the boy’s head there, who had no choice but to part his lips, his tongue sliding out as he began to lick up the vomit. He coughed and retched, his entire frame trembling in horror as the hot, acidic taste hit the back of his throat, swallowing down. Soon he was only licking what remained, his head to the side and eyes squeezed shut, mortified by his predicament. 

“First messing yourself then my floor? Son, you need to be punished.”

He let go of the Scout, lifting himself up into a stand and stepping over him, moving to his wardrobe. He swung it open, his riding crop hanging there, he snatched it up, stepping over the boy a second time and lowering himself into his seat once more.

“Here. Now.”

He snapped, curling his finger and watching as the Scout slowly lifted himself off the floor. He began to crawl towards the man slowly, his stomach doing somersaults as he managed another retch, followed by a soft hiccup. His hair was gripped when he was close enough, pulled onto the man’s lap on his belly. His legs hung over one side, his head and arms the other, dangling over the Soldier’s legs. The man leaned back in his seat to get comfortable, bringing the riding crop to the boy’s lips. 

“Hold.”

The Scout looked at the leather in horror, raising his gaze for a moment to the Soldier whose expression was dead serious. He parted his lips obediently around the crop, taking it between his lips width ways and closing his mouth around it, he held it between his teeth. When the Soldier was satisfied, he ran a large hand down the boy’s buttocks and the back of his legs, speaking.

“Here’s the plan boy. I’m going to punish you, you’re going to accept your punishment and you’re going to learn from it. If at any time you drop that crop from that slutty little mouth of yours, I’ll use it on you instead. Got that?”

The Scout trembled in response, closing his eyes tightly and lowering his head, bracing himself. The Soldier ran his hand back up the boy’s thighs before landing his first slap against the boy’s left buttock. He repeated with the next, then smacked him again. He alternated his spanks, sometimes stopping to rub between the boy’s thighs before continuing. The Scout whimpered around the crop, holding it tightly as he jolted and squirmed with each slap, his legs kicked and his back arched in pain as the man never relented, repeated spanking. Then, they suddenly got harder, the sound of skin colliding violently with skin sounding though the air. The Scout cried out loudly, almost dropping the crop, catching it between his teeth at the last minute. 

Ten minutes passed and the Soldier hadn’t stopped, the boy’s buttocks were red raw and would most certainly bruise, he was a quivering, sobbing mess. The Soldier was impressed the boy hadn’t dropped the crop, but then again the Scout had suffered though much worse than what was happening now in the past few days. Without warning he grabbed the boy’s testicles between his fingers, squeezing hard, the Scout opened his mouth wide, dropping the crop and screaming out in agony, the Soldier laughed loudly, letting go before lowering his gaze to the crop. The Scout panted his legs kicking out and thighs closing tightly to protect himself.

“Well…Well…Well boy.”

The Soldier held that smug, shit eating grin as he stood up, the Scout rolling onto the floor. Instinctively he began to try crawling away, sobbing and hiccupping as he went, shaking his head and whimpering as the Soldier approached, lowering his boot down onto the boy’s lower back, he kept applying pressure until the boy stopped moving, lying there in defeat as he looked up at the Soldier in pure terror. 

“Get on the bed.”

The Soldier ominously ordered, raising his boot and watching as the terrified boy began to crawl slowly, over to the bed. He climbed up onto it, lying down on his belly and closing his eyes tightly, sobbing as the Soldier moved to his desk. The military man took out some thin rope, approaching the boy and bringing a hand between his thighs. He gripped the Scout’s sore testicles, the boy whimpered and shook his head, pleading to the older American who just laughed at the Scout’s effort. He pulled his balls back from behind him.

“Bend over, bend your knees, spread your thighs boy, I want to see you present yourself to me.”

The Scout did as he was told, getting into the position he knew all too well. He bent over, raising his sore, throbbing buttocks into the air as he spread his thighs. His bottom lip trembled as he sniffled pathetically, just wanting this nightmare to end. The Solder unravelled the rope, taking the boy’s small cock and stroking it, causing the boy to gulp and shiver, he pulled it back, beginning to wind the rope around the boy’s testicles, wrapping them over and over as they pulled away from the boy’s small cock. The Scout began to whimper, shaking his head as the rope was tied nice and tight, causing his balls to stick out from between his spread thighs.

“Now we’ve got ourselves a target, haven’t we boy?”

The Scout’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically, beginning to crawl forward. The man took the crop immediately to the boy’s buttock, smacking him with an almighty crack. The Scout screamed out loudly, falling onto his face on the bed as the Soldier laughed, stepping back. He began to lightly pepper the exposed underside of the boy’s feet with the crop, soft little spiteful smacks which caused the Scout to scream and cry, pleading desperately for the man to stop. Then the crop was slipped along the boy’s spread thighs, his aching balls causing him so much pain and discomfort that he choked on his own sobs, the whip cracked, smacking the surface of his bound testicles. The Scout howled, his back shooting up, his form tumbling off the bed as he tried to pull himself into a stand, he tripped, falling for the door, but the Soldier gripped him by the hair before he could go any further.

“Trying to escape punishment, cupcake? Accept it like a man!”

He shouted, throwing the Scout back down onto the bed, this time onto his back. 

“Spread those fucking thighs!”

He shouted, spit flying as the terrified boy did as he was told, lying there and presenting himself obediently. The man took the crop to the boy’s inner thighs, smacking repeatedly at the sensitive skin, the Scout’s mouth was wide open, but no noise escaped. He jolted and rocked his body, crying out in agony as the Soldier turned his attention to his bound testicles, he began to whip them and this caused the boy to convulse, retching loudly and turning his head to burry it into the sheets. The pain was unbearable, he couldn’t take anymore, he pushed himself up along the bed, turning his body to the side and smashing his own face against the metal headboard of the bed. The Soldier watched the self mutilation with glee, amused by the boy who repeatedly smacked his head, his body rocking as he howled in agony and misery. 

“Stop hurting me, please! Stop it! Stop it!”

He screamed, throwing his arms around his own head and curling his body. He sobbed violently, his entire body shaking as he begged for death, begged for this to be over. The Soldier grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling his hands away from his head and pushing the boy down.

“Carry on.”

He spoke. His voice calm and dangerously low. The Scout lifted his head, looking up at the other American, blood trickling down his lip, confused.

“…I want to see you knock yourself out.”

The Scout curled his hands up to his chest, turning away from the Soldier and forcing his body, trying to push himself off the bed. The Soldier grabbed him by the shoulder, grabbing him by his hair and directing his face back to the metal headboard.

“Do it, or I’ll rip your testicles off and make you eat them boy!”

He shouted, letting go and watching in sick amusement as the Scout looked to the metal headboard. He whimpered softly, closing his eyes tightly before smashing his own face into the metal, he did this over and over. Blood poured from his mouth and nose, it didn’t take long for the boy to finally knock himself out, escaping the pain once more in a shroud of darkness.


	10. Sir HootsALot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spy confronts the Sniper.

He was not going to get away with it. 

The Red Spy was still fuming, after having left the Scout in the capable hands of the Soldier, he’d slunk off and outside. He pressed his back to the wall, a hand slinking into his expensive suit jacket and removing his revolver. He checked his ammunition before holding the gun loosely to his side, watching the camper van from the distance as he began to plan his advantage. He was going to go in there, shoot him in the head and be done with it, there was no need to elongate a situation that he had no time for, he saw it as putting down a rabid dog, the man was wild and the Spy had wanted him gone long before this incident, every other Merc would have agreed with him. He side stepped with speed over to the camper, activating his watch as he approached, pressing his back to the side and holding the gun up beside his head. The Spy listened, straining his ears for any movement inside the camper, he heard a creak, his shoulders lowering as he tensed, holding his breath. Then he heard a hoo-hoot! Hoo-Hoot! And he jumped, his eyes narrowing as he shot his head round. On the fence in front of him sat a puffed up owl, fluffy with a little triangular beak and elongated feathers, hiding away its talons. The Spy cussed aloud, contemplating aiming the revolver and shooting the damn thing, but the last thing he wanted as to alert the red Sniper to his own presence. 

However, it was already too late for that. The cloaked Spy winced when he felt something against his head, feeling a warm dampness trickle down the collar of his suit and impregnate into the wool. He immediately directed his attention above him on the camper‘s roof, cock out, piss streaming from it in an impressive load all over his victim, the Red Sniper. 

“Do you know what male Porcupines do when they’re ready to mate?”

The Spy lifted his revolver, immediately aiming it at the man and firing, the sound reverberated as the bullet hit the tin of the camper, he couldn’t tell if the Sniper had been hit or not but the Australian had disappeared from view. The Spy, knowing his cover was blown immediately turned, making off back to the base as his cloak disappeared from his urine covered form. Sir Hoots-a-lot however flew at him with a screech, talons digging into the back of his neck as wings flapped rapidly, beating against the Frenchman’s ears. The Spy shouted out, stumbling forward on his knees, looking up only to get a swift boot to the face and that was when it all went black. 

XXX

When the Spy woke up, he realised very quickly that he was in the shower, mostly because he was being pelted with ice cold water and that he was naked. His wrists were tied above him to a metal rod, keeping him on his knees upon the shower floor. Crusted, old blood was dried on a lot of the plastering, clinging to the areas that weren’t tiled. The Spy had a feeling that the Sniper had killed more people in this cubicle than he himself had showered in it. He kept very quiet, despite the biting numbness all over his body from the ice cold water, he could barely feel his buttocks. He tested the metal rod above his head, pulling his arms and rolling his eyes, as if it was going to be that simple. His wrists were tied so tightly he couldn’t feel his fingers, everything was numb, it felt worse than being in pain. 

“My Ma got me a budgerigar when I was a snapper. I loved that little bird, I got him out every day, me. Gave him kisses and he bobbed his lil head along to the radio, best thing that ever happened to me that bird. Then one day Ma left my bedroom door open and the cat got in.”

A pause as the Sniper stood in the doorway of the cubicle, he was wearing a black wife beater and nothing else, his hat slanted on his head, failing to hide the deranged, sleepless look in those hollow, red eyes of his. 

“I put that cat in the microwave and cooked it from the inside out, I skinned and dressed what was left of it and put it in a casserole. Ma always liked my cooking, never asked about the ingredients though.”

The Spy opened his mouth to speak when he only just realised now that he couldn’t, he’d been gagged, the Australian had wrapped duct tape right around the man’s face, he could barely move his lips against it, it was so tight. He grunted, rolling his eyes and shifting his gaze to the Jarate in the Sniper’s one hand and the tray of ice-cubes in the other. He approached closer, setting the jar down, which also appeared to contain lumps, still holding the tray. He leaned in close, his chest touching the Frenchman’s, he’d taken an ice cube from the tray and was now pressing it to the Spies exposed nipple, rubbing it all over the hard nub. The Frenchman breathed heavily though his nose, the Australian continued, slowly stroking the man’s cock with his other hand, his hot breath against his ear.

“You like me molesting you, you French faggot?”

He snarled, gravel laced tone as gruff as ever as he pushed his tongue into the Spies ear, causing him to flinch and wrinkle his nose in disgust. A hand was brought behind the Frenchman, nails suddenly digging into the man’s buttock, causing him to jolt up onto his knees, spreading his thighs in order to accommodate his frame, exactly what the Bushman wanted. He took the ice cube to the Frenchman’s exposed anus, pushing between his taunt buttocks and forcing the ice into his tight hole. He rumbled low against the Spies ear, who involuntarily moaned gently, his breath hitching at the sensation. Another ice cube was brought around his body, he closed his eyes, panting against the tape as the Sniper pushed the next cube into him. His cock was rock hard, he bucked his hips and shook his head impatiently as his body betrayed him. 

“You do, you proper do, proper nice that.”

He sneered, wrapping his lips around the Frenchman’s ear, sucking the orifice into his mouth as he selected a third ice cube, wasting no time in pushing it into the Spy, who writhed and shuddered against the man’s hand. The Sniper unscrewed the Jarate jar, the Spies vision obscured as the Sniper pressed his body to his once more in his usual claiming manner. 

“I loved fucking your boy. He was so nice and tight, milked my cock like a fuckin’ machine, that asshole of his. I loved claiming him, felt real nice dominating someone elses property.”

The Spy suddenly felt something push into his asshole and he jolted, his cheeks flushed at the sensation, the Sniper pushed the object all the way into him before fishing another out of the piss jar. 

“That feel good, ya’ little bitch?”

He whispered, watching as the Spy shook his head, moaning as the Sniper forced another one of the objects into him, causing him to rock his hips and shake his head more. 

“One more? You want one more?”

The Sniper whispered, kissing the Spies chin then his duct taped mouth, nuzzling him nose to nose as he pushed the next object into his captive. The Spy felt his cock twitch, hard and excited, begging to be touched. However, that erection didn’t last long, as the Sniper leaned back on his knees in front of the Spy, who watched as he lifted the jar up, taking out one of the objects he’d been shoving up the Frenchman’s ass.

“Tell me Spook, how did it feel to finger yourself?”

The Spy stared in horror as the Sniper bit down, crunching on the piss soaked ligament, swallowing it down, his left eye twitching and his lip curled into a morbid sneer. Realisation had hit the Spy now, the reason why he could no longer feel his fingers was because he didn’t have any to feel and now? He knew exactly what was being shoved up his ass, he retched, applying pressure as he began to attempt to expel what was inside him, he shook his head, gulping down bile and building saliva, his eyes wide in horror as he stared up at his captor, who continued to simply crunch…crunch…crunch…

XXX

When the Spy had woken up, he saw that he was outside. His wrists were bound tightly behind his back, as were his ankles, his body completely naked, he realised he was lying on a grassy bank beside a lake. [ Yes, the same one from Unfair Dismissal. ] He squirmed, wincing as he tried to take in as much of his surroundings as possible, he realised his mouth was no longer gagged but now wide open, spread around a water tight tube. Lowering his gaze he observed what the gag was attached to, a tubing of around fifteen feet or so, often used by divers. He squirmed, wiggling against the grass before seeing a shadow move over his body. Looking up at the now fully clothed Sniper, the Australian lowered a boot onto the Spies head, applying pressure and forcing his face into the ground. 

“My therapist says that I need to find something to distract me yet build my patience, fishing is good for that, yeah?”

He kicked the Spy after lifting his boot from the man’s head, before kicking him towards the water, then with one last, swift boot to the back, the Spy fell into the deep lake. He immediately began to squirm as he sank down, his mouth forced wide open by the gag he desperately tried to keep calm, breathing though his mouth and closing his eyes. He tried to pretend he was somewhere else, but the lake was dark and isolating, the water enveloping his form and enclosing him in the unknown. He soon realised that he was trembling, he was truly frightened about his fate, there could be anything down here. He thrashed against the water, shaking his head and trying to force himself to the surface, when the Spy thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. He felt a sudden splash against his forced open mouth, coughing and spasming as the liquid poured down his throat, he had no choice but to swallow or drown, the Sniper was pissing in the tube and he had a lot of urine for the Spy to swallow. The man tried to pull away from the tube, but had no such luck, feeling his body hit the lake floor, coughing around the tube and whimpering softly, at least nobody could see or hear how pitiful he was down here.

A few hours had passed and the Spy had drifted in and out of consciousness, waiting for death to take him. He was rudely awoken by another splash of piss filling his throat, which he reluctantly swallowed down. Suddenly he felt a yank, the water gravitating his body downwards with pressure as the Sniper began pulling him up, pulling him out of the water and watching in amusement as the Spy flipped around in his restraints, breathing heavily though his nose. Immediately the tube began to fill with vomit as the Spy purged, his body in shock from the violent treatment plus the bitter cold. He couldn’t feel anything, coughing as the Sniper finally removed the tube from his mouth, the spreader gag still intact around his lips. The Australian wasted no time in grabbing the man’s head and pushing his cock into the Spy’s forced open mouth. He began to fuck his face violently, forcing his length repeatedly down into the unwilling man’s throat.

“Aw yeah, you’re so cold, feels so fucking good, like fucking a living corpse.”

He grunted, rutting until he eventually came, spraying it all over the Spies face, who lay there exhausted from his ordeal. He was about to push his cock in for another go when he heard the sound of an engine, turning his head he watched as the vehicle approached. Immediately the Sniper backed off, shoulders raised defensively as his body grew still. An ambulance, which only meant one thing, the Medic had found them. The Spy would have sobbed with joy had he lost any of his dignity, however he closed his eyes, tucked his head in and waited for the humiliating moment to pass. However something interesting was occurring, the Spy heard murmering, his body tense as he opened one eye, watching as the Sniper backed up far away from the Medic, his shoulders lowered and his arms held awkwardly in front of his form, the way he backed up when the Medic approached and how he didn’t once aggressively confront the man of medicine could only mean one thing. 

The Sniper was frightened of Doctors.

He moved around the Medic, a wide perimeter before getting into the camper van, without a word he drove off, the engine growing quieter and quieter as he disappeared into the distance. The Medic approached the Spy, looking down at him and tutting, he lowered his form to pick the spindly man up carefully, holding him to his chest. The Spy ignored him, wishing he was dead right now as he reluctantly indulged himself in the German’s body warmth. 

“Herr Spy what on earth happened?”

The Medic questioned, walking back to the ambulance, holding the Frenchman against him.

“No matter, whats important is that I get you back to the Med bay, is lucky I installed these GPS chips into everyone, ja?”

The Spy was sure somehow that wasn’t legal, but he was even more sure that it’d be somewhere, in small print, begging to differ. He sighed, closing his eyes as sleep took over. 

Sniper: 1 Spy: 0


	11. The Engineer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machines? I like machines.

Beep. Beep.

The cold air touched the naked Scout’s frame, causing him to shiver, he lifted his head, sitting bolt up right when he suddenly remembered what had happened the day before. The Soldier had forced him to knock himself out, he’d come in and out of consciousness but he couldn’t recall a thing between that time and now. 

Beep. Beep.

Slowly blinking back, the sun was bright, he raised a mittened clad hand up to his face as he squinted, turning his head and getting a good look at his surroundings. Some kind of garage, with a huge square opening, the mechanical steel door was raised up to the ceiling, letting the bitter cold air blast into the steel walled room. All over was shelving, tools, lubricants, machines and books. A guitar propped up against a near by wall.

Beep. Beep.

He knew exactly where he was now, lifting himself up into a stand, only to find the highest he could go was his knees, a chain lead attached to his collar. Turning his head he came face to face with the machine that of which was making that consistent sound. A Sentry gun. A pretty ruby red thing, he’d seen them a few times outside the base, as he lowered his form back down to the cold, hard floor it spun around to the door, a red laser gliding along the ground and dotting the forehead of the intruder. 

“Easy there sunshine.”

Came the gentle Texan accent, the laser clicked off and the machine’s head spun back around to the boy who immediately backed up with the Engineer approached. The guy had a fluffy beard, which housed some snowflakes, a genuine gentle smile and eyes hidden away by some goggles. He lowered his ungloved hand down to stroke the Scout, who closed his eyes tightly. The boy ached all over and he had a foul taste in his mouth, however despite being a little light headed, his head wasn‘t doing too bad despite the ordeal. He curled his knees up, closing his thighs in front of his own crotch self-consciously as the hand repeated stroked though his hair, then down the back of his neck before gently touching his face. The boy kept still, closing his eyes tightly and flinching with each movement, expecting the Texan to suddenly strike him, but it didn’t come. Slowly the hand came down to touch one of the boy’s nipples and immediately it went from being somewhat soothing to a little more unnerving as the Engineer began to rub the boy’s hard nipple, causing him to whimper very gently, his arms raising to shield his chest. 

“It’s alright darlin‘, I ain’t gonna’ hurt you.”

He reassured, his hand sliding down now, urging the Scout to open his thighs, who wasn’t having any of it. He shook his head, turning his body to the side and keeping his knees drawn over his crotch. The Texan frowned, raising his form and petting the head of his sentry. 

“Just wanna’ give you a little pleasure after everything you’ve been though.”

He kept his tone gentle, his voice sincere, but the Scout didn’t want to be touched. 

“I want to go home.”

He whispered, shivering all over as he held his arms over his chest, hands clutching his shoulders as he lowered his head into them, beginning to sob. The Engineer immediately moved down onto his knees, stroking the boy’s hair and pulling him to his chest. The man was extremely warm where he’d been working and the Scout automatically turned in and wrapped his arms around him, sobbing harder against his chest as the Texan began to stroke down his back. The Scout was hysterical, crying so hard he was coughing and retching, 

“There there, it’s alright little sunshine, calm down. Sssh.”

He whispered, humming gently, anything to calm the distressed boy.

“You want a milkshake? A hot chocolate?”

The Scout’s sobs turned to soft sniffles as he lifted his head, looking up at the Engineer with puffy red eyes. His bottom lip quivered as another sob threatened to escape him. His mittened hands loosely groping against the man’s overalls, desperate for kindness. 

“I want to go home, please…get me outta’ here, man.”

His voice hoarse from days of screaming, crying and pleading.

“No can do, you’re down here to help me with my work…gotta’ few things to test out. I promi-..”

And the boy was howling again, sobbing against the man’s chest and cutting him off. The Scout had been so strong, a determined boy with a great life ahead of him. He’d been quick witted, brave and didn’t take shit from anyone, but the torment, abuse and neglect he’d been though at the hands of these depraved men had slowly chipped away at that personality leaving nothing more than a terrified husk of the person he once was. The Engineer stroked the Scout’s head once more before carefully pulling away and moving into a stand. It didn’t seem like the boy would cooperate, and despite being the gentle caring man that he was, his machines and research came first. It wasn’t often he was given an opportunity to test out his more.. Questionable machines, the ones he’d made during the war as fun toys to pass the time and to make money. Afterall, whatever industry you work in, sex will always sell. 

He moved to one of the drawers beside the cabinet beneath the window, he took out what appeared to be a silver bullet shaped butt plug, with a more bulbous rubber base. As soon as the Scout saw it, he began to panic, pushing himself up against the sentry, crashing into it and scrabbling against the floor. 

“Easy…easy…It’ll make you feel real good, I promise.”

The Engineer said sympathetically, opening the top drawer and taking out some lube, which he began to douse the silver device with. It was around four inches long, but it had ribs and segments, there was more to the device than meets the eye. He descended upon the defenceless boy, pushing him down to the floor by the neck and pinning him down. He tried to be as gentle as possible, ssshing and whispering kind words to the Scout in an attempt to calm him.

“Don’t! Don’t! Please, just let me go!”

The boy pleaded as he was pinned to the ground, feeling the freezing cold tip of the device as it was pushed into his used, somewhat slightly slack hole. He began to cry again, unable to do a thing as the Engineer held him down by the back of his neck and leaning on his back to stop him from struggling away. The Texan pushed the dildo all the way inside the boy until it hit the rubber stopper, however, the base of the plug had a few buttons, the first was pressed. The rubber expanded against the boy’s rim, before suctioning tightly, making it impossible for the boy to expel. 

“I promise, it’ll feel good, be a good boy.”

The Texan whispered as he pressed the next button, the device immediately whirled to life, first it expanded inside the boy, then it extended, thrusting back and forth gently. The Scout jolted at the sensation, his arms moving up to rest mittened hands against the sentry as the dildo began to repeatedly fuck him. 

“Don’t! Make it stop! Stop it! Please!”

He cried out as it began to increase in speed, rutting him harder and harder. He began to instinctively roll his hips, the ridges smooth and the head repeatedly pounding his prostate, it hit all the right places and before he knew it, the Scout began to press his form harder against the Engineer, closing his eyes.

“That’s it, good boy..just let it fuck you, feel good? You like that?”

He whispered, stroking the Scout’s face, taking his chin and lifting his head, forcing him to look up at him as his machine fucked him. The boy shuddered and squirmed, shaking his head, lips parted as he panted, spreading his thighs as the device increased it’s speed again. The Scout cried out when he felt the Engineers gloved hand on his tiny cock, fingers stroking, realising he was hard and dripping. He kept shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he suddenly came against the Engineer’s fingers, crying out, for once in pleasure as his body flinched and rocked, elongating the orgasm out. The Engineer lowered a hand to turn the machine off, relieving the boy as he slipped it out of his slack hole. The Scout panted gently, shivering all over, his cheeks flushed as he looked up at the man.

“Can I go home now?”

Without warning the spanner came down onto the boy’s head with a brilliant crack, immediately knocking him out cold.

“Not in a long shot, partner.”

XXX

When the Scout awoke, he immediately knew something was wrong. He was lying on his back on a wooden table, and his wrists were tied with rope to his collar either sides of his neck. He looked around with panicked eyes, he felt very strange and vulnerable, looking up to see his feet in the air. His ankles were cuffed and were separated by a spreader bar which kept his legs open nice and wide. The spreader bar was attached by more chains to the ceiling, keeping his legs held up and restrained and stretched wide. He swallowed softly, sniffling as he looked down in horror, there was a machine in front of him, a box of some kind with pumps and a large tube. The tube was connected to a large rounded suction cup which was currently pushed onto his cock and locked on. 

“I see you’re awake, darlin’. Ready to be milked.”

The Engineer looked somewhat sinister. It was dark out and the garage door was shut, a single lamp hanging from a ceiling above the table. The light reflected off of the Texan’s goggles creating a malicious sheen. He approached, lowering a hand to the suction cup, securing it to the boy’s cock and running his hand along the short tube. 

“This’ll suck your little cock, boy, make sure it gets every last drop of the cum it milks from ya’ and stores it in this here box, then down here..”

The boy lowered his gaze, looking down in horror, there was a large dildo between his thighs, the head of it pressing against his exposed little pucker. The dildo was attached to the machine, and after sampling the Texan’s little device earlier the boy had already had a taste for what was coming next. The Scout tried to lift his head, only to find his collar was chained down tight to the table, he whimpered softly, sniffling as he felt snot trickle down his flared nostrils. 

“Please…let me go…”

He pleaded, his bottom lip trembling as he looked up at the Engineer.

“No can do, cowboy, gotta’ get some milk from ya’.”

He said cheerily, turning on a switch and stepping back to watch the machine whirl to life. First the dildo began to push its way into the boy’s hole, forcing it’s way in effortlessly and beginning to relentlessly pummel the boy, who was strapped down so tightly and spread so wide, he had no choice but to take the cock. The Scout immediately began to panic when the suction cup whirled, beginning to hum before creating a warm sensation, then beginning to suck his cock. The Scout’s voice cracked, his lips parted as no noise came out as the machine repeatedly pleasured him. He instinctively bucked his hips while shaking his head, mouthing “no” over and over. It didn’t take long for him to cum, squirting his load into the suction cup, which was sucked into the tube and stored inside the machine. He panted, moaning in pleasure as his eyes rolled, but the machine didn’t stop and to the boy’s horror he realised that it wouldn’t unless the Texan turned it off. 

“None..none more.”

The Scout managed, suddenly feeling a jet of something cold squirt up his ass from the dildo. The Texan examined the boy’s face, enjoying his reaction as he squirmed. 

“You like that don’t cha’? Being milked by my machine. Look at your little slut cock all hard again, you feel that squirt? Just a little reward, some lotion to keep you nice and cool.”

The Engineer whispered, watching as the boy panted and whimpered, trying to move his ankles, squirming against the table, desperate to get away as the machine relentlessly fucked him.

“Like a little mindless cow, ain’t cha?”

He whispered, leaning in to stroke the panting boy’s hair, who closed his eyes and managed another moan as he came a third time today, the machine collecting his cum and not giving him a chance to recover from his orgasm. Soon it was beginning to no longer feel pleasurable, his cock felt red raw and hot, his backside felt itchy and uncomfortable. He sobbed softly, begging the Engineer, pleading for him to stop but the man simply sshed him, stroking his head.

“Now ssh and produce lots of lovely milk for me, good boy. See you in the morning.”

The Engineer lowered his head to kiss the panicking Scout’s forehead, moving around and flicking a switch on the machine, a timer came up, counting down twelve hours, and the dildo increased it’s speed inside the boy. 

“Don’t go, please!! Don’t leave me! Don’t! You can’t!! Help me!”

The Scout shrieked desperately at the Texan’s turned back, who moved to the door before flicking off the light switch. 

“Don’t worry little one, my sentry will keep good watch of ya.”

The door shut and the boy was left there, being repeatedly pounded in the dark. He had no choice but to submit to the machine, his body rocking and tensing, his toes cramping and his neck and wrists straining. His body jolted and he howled out in pain and pleasure as another orgasm washed over him, squirting his load and trembling all over in horror at his predicament, his balls aching.

All he could hear was the constant slick pounding in his ass as the cold liquid squirted out of his hole with each thrust, and the subtle, soft sounds of the sentry beside him. He was in for a very…very long night.

Beep. Beep.


	12. Mad Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two updated chapters in one day, both with no porn, but plot? What is this world coming to?
> 
> Just an establishing chapter to build up the next scene. Nothing really to warn here other than the usual Scout abuse, but a little hurt/comfort too.

The Spy was angry. 

He was angry because right now he was a cripple with no fingers.  
He was angry because when he sought for revenge he received a defeat instead.  
He was angry because nothing was going his way right now. 

He was perched on the steel medical table, his hands held to his lap and his body wrapped in a dressing gown. Cigarette dangling precariously on his lower lip, unlit and his face unmasked. It always made him uneasy, being exposed like this, however the Medic had all of the Merc’s records at his fingertips even his own, including an image of his face. He was a handsome man, slightly hooked nose, intelligent eyes and black hair with traces of silver, it was kept slicked back from his face at all times, ski mask or not. He raised that head of his when the Medic returned. 

“Is no use Herr Spy. When your fingers were removed you were out of respawn range.”

There was silence that followed, the Medic had one more fact and he was contemplating whether or not to unleash it upon the already angry Frenchman. 

“…If you’d been around two feet forward from your position back then, the respawn would have recovered your missing limbs for you.”

Another awkward silence, the Spies face was creasing and his teeth were bared, cigarette dropped without a care from his lip when he realised what the Medic was about to say. 

“….So he knew the exact proximity of the Respawns range and made sure I was inches outside the perimeter of said range, oui?”

Said the Spy, relatively calmly considering his words were spoken though clenched teeth and the anger and frustration that was creeping across his features. 

“Bastard.”

He moved off the table, stepping to the door.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Snapped the Doctor, who lowered himself to his own desk, a dove fluttering down and landing on his shoulder. 

“…I’m going to gut him, I’m going to murder him!”

“With what? You’re going to beat him with your stumpy hands?”

“Shut up!”  
“…Herr Spy.”

The Medic began, removing his glasses and cleaning them on a handkerchief, frowning. 

“If you go there now, in the angry state you’re in, your hands in the mess they’re in and only protected by a dressing gown, that man is going to think it’s Christmas morning, and..”

“Shu-..”

“AND. He’s going to untie that dressing gown like a bow and unwrap you like an excited child. Do NOT go anywhere.”

The Spy lowered his stumped hand from the door in defeat, knowing the Doctor was right. He walked back to the table, leaning on it and watching the Doctor, who was gently petting the dove. 

“Stay here, let me help you with those fingers.”

The Medic turned to the telephone mounted onto the wall, punching in some numbers as he watched the Spy.

“I know a certain someone who doesn’t need theirs.”

XXX

The Engineer heard the phone in his office go, he was about to go check on the Scout, after all the boy’s twelve hours had been up around twenty minutes ago. It was a bright and beautiful sunny day and after a nice cup of coffee and the first sentry built up of the morning outside the base, he was in a great mood. Pushing his wheely chair over to his main desk he stopped and balanced himself before snatching up the phone.

“Red.”

“Oh hullo Herr Engineer.”

“Doctor, good morning!”

He smiled, turning in his chair and hitching it back as he leaned into it, throwing his feet up onto his desk.

“What can I do for you, fella?”

“I need you to bring the Scout to the Med bay, I need him as soon as possible.”

The Engineer shifted a glance to the garage door, he hadn’t heard a peep from the boy.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m finished. Heading your way now, gotta’ get that bacon cooking.”

He hung up, lifting himself from the chair with a grunt and wandering over to the garage door, swinging it open. The Scout lay against the table, his entire body coated in a thick layer of silky sweat. His body practically shone with the stuff, the Engineer approached for a closer look at the boy, who was fast asleep, exhausted from his ordeal. He lifted the suction cup from the boy’s red raw and slightly purple cock from the pressure and burst blood vessels. His ass was oozing the lubricant and when the Engineer pulled the dildo back, the stuff leaked out in streams, gushing from the boy who stirred with a pathetic whimper. His eyes swollen and puffy and his lips cracked as his tongue slid out to wet them. 

“…Can I…go home now?”

He whispered, his entire body convulsing as he shivered, his nose red and blocked as his eyes began to water. He’d evidently caught a chill in the night, due to the exposure and the constant pummelling to his now very vulnerable frame. The Engineer untied his ankles, then removed the spreader bar and the Scout immediately coiled his legs up, closing his thighs around his extremely painful and sore genitals. He sobbed softly as the Texan untied his wrists from his collar next, before lowering himself to offer his form to be gripped. The boy did just that, wrapping his arms around the man and sobbing against his chest.

“It hurts…it hurts, please..make it stop.”

He cried, pressing his face tightly to the Engineer’s overalls, the Texan stroking his hair and rocking him gently, trying his best to sooth his little living experiment. 

“I’m taking you to see the Doc, he’s gonna’ make you feel all better, I promise.”

The Engineer said gently, though his expression grim, knowing full well it was about to get much worse for the lad. He stroked the boy’s back gently, trying to give him a little comfort before the next horror would come, before lifting himself as the Scout let go, lowering his mittened hands into his lap. 

“I don’t…I don’t feel well, I..it hurts everywhere.”

He whispered, his form trembling frantically as he rocked himself, trying to get warm. The Engineer moved to one of his cabinets, taking out a fleecy, sheep skin blanket. He opened it up, flapping it out of any moth balls before throwing it around the boy’s shoulders, wrapping it around him. The Scout drew his legs in, closing them tightly and throwing the blanket over his head, enveloping his entire body into it. His shivering got worse as the warmth wrapped his body. It felt amazing, incredible, so soft against his skin, so warm and soothing, before he knew it, more tears were rolling down his cheeks. The gentle embrace of the blanket reminded him of his Ma.

“Is she safe?”

He blurted out, looking up at the Engineer, who was removing a jar from the machine beside the table. It wasn’t very large but it was almost full from the boy’s milking the night before. He screwed the lid on tightly and turned to the Scout, tilting his head.

“Who?”

“My Ma, is she safe?”

The Engineer frowned some, lowering the jar into one of his utility pockets and approaching the boy once more.

“Can you stand? Or do you want me to carry you to the med bay?”

The boy couldn’t see the flicker in the Engineer’s eyes, those goggles hiding away any uncertainties. 

“Is she safe?”

He asked again, his legs dangling before his feet touched the floor, moving into a stand. His legs trembled and crippling pain shot though his thighs and buttocks as he leaned back against the table. 

“Easy there, kid!”

The Texan swooped in, holding the boy up and preventing him from falling, the Scout grew quiet now, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer from the man. He offered his shoulder, which the boy took, leaning on it as the pair of them began to walk. 

XXX

They got to the corridor before the steps leading down to the med bay when the Scout fell, without any warning. His knees buckled and his entire frame crumbled to the floor within that blanket. He yelled out, incoherent sounds of pain as he tried to crawl forward, falling on his face and disappearing under the blanket. The Engineer scratched the back of his head, tilting his hard hat forward in the process as he watched the boy. 

“…You wanna’ rest?”

He questioned, not receiving a reply from the Scout. He lowered his form onto one knee and grunted as he pulled the boy up into a stand, before scooping him up into his arms awkwardly, trying to lift him, failing miserably as he dropped the Scout back down to the ground. 

“Don’t go anywhere kid, I’ll be right back.”

He moved for the stairs, descending them as quickly as he could. The Scout watched him go from beneath the blanket, pulling it around himself he crawled to a wall and pulled himself up into a fragile stand. His knees threatened to buckle, his form trembling as he began to walk along the wall, back down the corridor, his speed increased when the front doors were in sight, falling into them as they flew open, tumbling down into the snow. He coughed, clutching the blanket loosely to himself as he began to crawl, the soft snow numbing his skin in seconds. He pushed himself, determined this time as he pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, crawling as quickly as he could to the main gate. The blanket was left behind, his mittened hands unable to grip it or keep it onto his frame, at this point he didn’t care if he froze to death, he just wanted to escape this hell. 

“Didn’t you learn the first time, lad?”

He froze. This time however, it wasn’t because of the chill he’d caught, neither the snow surrounding his naked form, slowly his gaze lifted, coming face to face with the barrel of that familiar Sniper rifle. The Scout wasted no time, tilting his head back, mouth open wide as he produced the most ear piercing scream he could muster, he didn’t stop there though, shrieking and screaming. There was no way in hell he was going back, ANYTHING but that camper van, hook him up to that fuck machine for another day, no, another two days, anything but being in the company of that man, that Red Sniper. 

“…It’s like Christmas morning.”

“Don’t. Touch him.”

The Medic, his coat hanging over his shoulders, the sleeves flapping in the chilled wind around him, approached, the tails of his coat flying up with each powerful stride. When the Sniper saw the Medic it was the same reaction as previous, he backed up immediately, nose wrinkling as he lowered his shoulders. The Medic removed his coat, wrapping the Scout in it and lifting him up into a stand, keeping him bundled tightly against his form.

“You are on very thin ice, Herr Sniper.”

The Medic’s eyes narrowed, taking a step forward, only for the deranged Bushman to step back, retreating immediately. The Australian didn’t say another word, turning, flipping his rifle back over his shoulder and making his way back towards the camper van. The German watched the man’s every move, all the way until he’d disappeared into the mobile home, it was only then that he turned on his heel, Scout against his chest as he proceeded to make his way back in. 

XXX

The Scout stiffled another pathetic sob as he was laid out on the table in the med bay, still wrapped in the Medic’s coat, the Engineer was still there, apologising profusely. The Spy out of sight, the bath water could be heard running.

“I had no idea he was gonna’ get away so fast.”

“…He’s a Scout, what did you expect?”

The Medic frowned, looking over the boy who was blue in the face, his body extremely pale, the Scout’s teeth chattered, his eyes rolled back some. 

“You can go now, I need to get him to room temperature. Thank you for bringing him.”

The German spoke, his back to the Engineer, dismissing the man in an unimpressed manner.

“Hey, before I go…got something for ya’.”

The Texan brought his hand into one of his utensil pockets, removing the jar of the boy’s cum, holding it out to the Medic, who turned in order to receive the gift.

“…Und what is this?”

He tilted it, turning his nose up when he realised, oh he knew exactly what it was.

“The Milking machine was a success then, ja?”

The Engineer nodded. 

“Yeah. I call it Mad Milk.”

XXX

Eventually the boy’s temperature was raised enough, he was still frantically shivering and his entire form twitched and flinched, squirming and writhing in agony. The boy called out pitifully for his Mama, his mittened hands reaching up, before covering his face. The lad was delirious, confused and frightened, when the Medic lifted him he cried out in pain, his voice withered and hoarse as the German carried him to the bathroom. The Spy stepped out, fully clothed with his mask covering his face once more, passing the two, he looked to the boy without any pity, sneering. 

“Hurry up.”

He snapped, moving back into the main med bay and leaving the Doctor with the Scout. The boy saw the bath tub and immediately he pulled, lifting his arms and wrapping them around the Doctor’s neck, scrabbling desperately and kicking his feet with what little fight he had left in him. He remembered this bathtub from the previous time, that day the Doctor had practically dropped him into boiling hot water and forced him to sit while it burned and scolded his body. This time, however the water was perfect, and the Doctor lowered him enough for the boy to feel it against his bare buttocks, before lowering him down into the tub. The Scout was speechless, his mouth hung open as he sat within the beautifully warm water, he curled his legs up, his bruises, cuts and sore muscles stinging some, but the sensation was the most amazing thing. 

He looked up at the Medic, tears running down his cheeks, watching as the Spy returned with a small set of keys. The Medic took them, and immediately brought the key to the lock at the boy’s wrist, unlocking and removing the first mitten. The Scout’s heart pounded, his eyes widened as the material was removed, revealing the fingers he thought he’d never see again. The Medic repeated with the second, setting the mittens and padlocks onto the side table and watching as the Scout lowered them into the water, staring at his fingers as if he was fascinated. His bottom lip trembled as he curled them to his chest, looking up at the Doctor.

“Thank you.”

The look the boy gave and the sincerity of his voice made it all worth it for the Doctor. He lowered a hand into the water to splash some on the Scout’s face, who winced, wrinkling up his nose. The Medic fought the urge to tell the boy what was coming up, he desperately held back the need to tell the boy to enjoy his fingers while they lasted, to taunt and cause him distress once more, but he restrained himself.

Afterall, the build up was the best part.


	13. Scout's Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't need those fingers.

The Medic was busy doing his paperwork, sat at his desk and fully immersed into the medical and insurance documents he had to read and sign. In his lap, bundled up in a large, white and very fluffy towel was the Scout, his legs curled in, his hands deep within the confines of the material and his head tucked in against the Medic’s chest. He was sleeping soundly, exhausted and frightened, he felt the only true person he could trust was the Medic, who’d fed him, bathed him and removed those mittens from his hands. The boy had drifted off to sleep, convinced that the ordeal was now over, he’d get his clothes back, they’d send him on his way. As soon as he got the chance he knew he’d tell the authorities about what happened, heck, he could use the brand on his buttock as pure proof of his ordeal. 

The Doctor looked up at his clock, it was time to begin the transplant. He was going to use a new technique, all this skin grafting stuff was far too intricate and time consuming. He’d learned that when he removed a rats tail and reattached another rats, then sent the creature though the respawn, the tail had fused to the bones, muscle and skin, the stitches simply popping out and doing the Doctor’s job for him. He’d not tried it before with humans but the Spy was willing to be a guinea pig. The Medic lifted himself up into a stand, moving to glance to the Spy, who was reading an old newspaper from the Doctor’s stand. He kept the ones with the old articles which showcased his work and apparently it was quite a good read to the Frenchman who appeared immersed. 

“Are you ready Herr Spy?”

He said softly, not wanting to wake the boy just yet as he approached. The Frenchman grumbled, folding the newspaper in one swift motion with his remaining thumbs before setting it down on the side table, he’d rise into a stand and adjust his tie awkwardly, miserable. He didn’t speak, but he gave the German a nod, who brought the boy to his table and gently lowered him down on his back. He only unwrapped the boy enough so that he could reach his arms, taking his hands and pulling them out before rewrapping him. Then he took each wrist, binding them either sides of his body tightly, the Scout stirred, blinking back slowly as his lips parted, wincing as the ceiling lights above him blinded his eyes. 

“Where…”

“Sssh.”

The Medic hushed as he attached the collar around the Scout’s neck to a short restraint, to keep his head down to the table during the procedure. The Medic didn’t speak as he moved to his tool counter, the boy turned his head, those frightened wide eyes watching as the German picked up the bonesaw first, the deranged expression on his face reflected in the metal, causing a chill to crawl up the boy’s spine. 

“Can I go ho-..”

“Shut up.”

The Spy snapped, agitated already that they even had to do such a thing. 

“Why didn’t you murder him? …The Sniper.”

He questioned next, eyes narrowing as he leaned against the counter, watching the Medic, who was inspecting another tool. 

“Because it is not my place, both of us know well that the Administrator keeps that man around for a reason, and until she gives us the go ahead, or has somebody take care of him, he’s here to stay. Herr Spy, I don’t know what you were thinking, but stay away from him.”

As he spoke, the Medic eventually selected a long, thin bonesaw, sharp and efficient and not bulky enough to get in the way, approaching the boy who was now sweating in the towel he was lying in. The Spy scowled at him, turning his head and walking over to the Doctor’s desk, sitting down and watching from his perch. The Medic took the boy’s first finger, his index. He didn’t speak, no gentle sshes, no reassurance, all cold and clinical as he pressed the blade to the finger and began to saw. Luckily for the Scout the blade was incredibly sharp, it went though the bone like butter and it sawed though the muscle and skin as if it were icing from a birthday cake. The boy didn’t seem to respond at first, his entire form tensed and his breathing hitched before realisation hit and his entire body spasmed in one frantic motion. His breathing rapidly increased and his eyes began to bulge as the Medic removed the first finger, placing it in the ice box provided, which had a lovely decal of a beaming sun and an ice cream cone. The next finger, the boy curled, wiggled, tried to pull it away from the Medic who was now smiling, pinned it down and lowered the blade once more. This time the boy remembered to scream, and scream he did. His teeth rattled as he shrieked, trying to pull himself desperately from the table as the Medic lifted the towel and pressed it to the now two bloody stumps, to clot the bleeding. 

Eventually, all eight fingers were taken, and along with the two thumbs, [ Who knows when somebody might need a thumb transplant. ] the boy’s hands after being treated and cleaned were wrapped in tight bandages. 

“Wont be needing those mittens now, will we?”

The Medic said in a sing song manner as he stroked the sweating boy’s head. The Scout had drifted in and out of consciousness during the ordeal, the pain not only so intense it’d caused him to faint but also jolted him awake. The good Doctor now turned his attention to the Spy, it was his turn. 

XXX

Stepping out the respawn the Spy looked down at his new fingers in relief. He’d been horrified when the Doctor had so crudely sewn them on like he was some kind of Frankenstein monster. The Scout’s fingers had been much too big for his hands and it looked like a complete mess. However the Medic’s research had paid off, and after coming though the respawn, his hands were as good as new, not only had they matched into the skin and toned the same colour, but they’d also resized to fit his much smaller hands. He immediately brought his hands into his jacket pocket, removing his disguise kit and fishing out a much needed cigarette, his only regret now was that he owed the good Doctor not once, but twice now. 

He heard the boy’s muffled sobs before he even opened the med bay door, stepping inside, smoke billowing from between his lips, a scene unfolded before him that was clearly not very professional. The Doctor had the Scout between his thighs as he sat at his desk, continuing on with his paperwork, however his fly was unzipped and his cock was stuffed into the Boy’s mouth. Occasionally the Medic tugged the collar, reminding the exhausted boy to continue sucking, who was obediently doing as he was told, he had little choice but to obey, afterall the good Doctor had informed him that if he didn’t, the same would happen to his cock as it had with his fingers. 

“Did it work?”

The Medic asked, turning his head and removing his glasses, wiping them before replacing, occasionally he winced in pleasure, smiling gently to his French experiment. The Spy replied by raising both of his hands. 

“I cannot even see where I stitched, this is fantastic Herr Spy.”

The Spy nodded.

“Oui…thank goodness you have too much time on your hands.” 

His eyes then shifted down to the Scout and the Medic’s gaze followed. 

“I’m going to keep him for a while, that isn’t a pro-..”

“Good. I have a dinner date tonight.”

And with that, the Spy turned tail and left.

XXX

The candlelight really brought out the beauty on her face. Wrapped in a lovely red dress, heels to match and a fluffy white bolero, Scout’s mother sat across from the masked man. They met up every few days and the Spy constantly wooed her, but leaving just a bit of mystery to keep her guessing and wanting more. 

“How is my boy doing? He said he’d write, but I haven’t had any letters from him.”

She spoke while twirling some spaghetti onto her fork, those eyes of hers were glossy and reflective, they looked exactly the way the boy’s had when he’d been sucking cock earlier that day, the Spy liked that. 

“He’s been extremely busy, he really does like to put out for everyone else.”

The Spy began, watching her studiously, which she mistook for admiration. 

“He also works as an assistant for our resident Doctor, he said your son helps him relieve a lot of stress.”

She smiled, her entire face lit up and it only exaggerated her beauty. 

“Oh that’s wonderful news, please have him call home at least! I miss my lil’ slugga’.”

“I’m sure he misses you too.”

As he spoke he adjusted his mask, before subtly checking his watch. 

“He is often very exhausted after a days work.”

“Is he behaving? Is he minding his manners?”

“Oh yes, he doesn’t talk with his mouth full, that’s for sure.”

XXX

After dropping her off home the Spy made his way back to the base. He passed the camper van on the way, the lights were still on though dimmed. The Frenchman resisted the urge to stealth in there and stab the bastard. Instead he moved on, slinking into the base in his usual silent manner and moving back to his room. When he got there, the lights were on, stepping in he looked around, nothing seemed out of place until he got to the kitchen. Evidently the Medic was done with the boy, because the Scout, wrapped up in another towel was curled up in the cage, his form shivering frantically as he looked up at the Spy with those wide glassy eyes. 

The Scout didn’t speak, but he did pull the blanket tighter around himself, as if it would protect him from the Spy who approached, pulling the door open and grabbing the boy by his ankle. The Scout tried to grip onto the bars, forgetting he had no fingers to cling on with. Once he was out the Frenchman gripped the back of his collar, pulling him up and walking him to the bed, which he threw him down onto. The Scout looked up at him, trembling as goose pimples began to form on his naked skin, his eyes watering as he looked up at the Spy, who was unknotting his tie and letting it tumble to the floor at his feet. Soon he was naked, and his body on the boy’s, he kissed the back of his neck and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. The Scout whimpered, his form writhing in the sheets as he was pinned, the Frenchman handled him roughly, forcing his face into the pillows as he slipped his cock into the boy’s slack hole. As he fucked him, he pressed his chest to the Scout’s back, repeatedly rutting him as he moaned into his ear. Compared to the machine, which had brutally raped him the previous night, the boy effortlessly endured the Spy’s assault, closing his eyes and just blocking it out until the Frenchman was done. The Frenchman was passionate, groping the boy, touching his skin all over and kissing his neck like that a true lover would. The Scout endured it, closing his eyes tightly, his cheeks flushed, his entire body felt hot against the bed sheets. The Spy sighed as he released his load into the boy, evidently quite the quiet lover, he had to do it, he wouldn’t let that Sniper leave his mark. 

As he sat up on the bed, removing a cigarette from the disguise kit and lighting up he remained with his thoughts, only their heavy breathing reverberated around the room in steady pulse. He looked to the boy, his nose wrinkling in agitation and realisation. He’d fucked the boy to reclaim him, so that the Sniper no longer owned him, so that his seed replaced the Bushman’s, that made him no different from that damn Australian and it caused the Spy to scowl in agitation as he glared at the boy who was curled into his bed sheets, relishing the moment of lying in such a comfortable soft bed. 

XXX

When Scout’s mother returned home, she was smiling so wide. The man was an absolute delight, so friendly and well mannered, he always paid the bill. His accent was beautiful, it’d been what had attracted her in the first place, she afterall only dated Frenchmen. What an amazing coincidence that her son’s colleague was so perfect! She lowered herself onto her bed, opening the jewellery box and beginning to remove her earrings. She hummed softly, reminiscing the past, the men she’d previously dated, loved, shared intimate moments with. 

Setting the second earring down she brought her gaze to the inner lid of the box, she had small Polaroid photos of the men who’d been most dear to her, her friends had called her a slut and it’d upset her, but now she was older, she was glad for all the fun times she’d had, letting those delicious Frenchmen spoil her. 

XXX

The Medic had only one light left to turn off in the Medbay, stretching gently and approaching his desk he began to neatly rearrange his paperwork, making a careful note to re-read the documents in the morning. He picked up the employee files he’d updated and a photo fell out of one of the documents. Looking up at him was the maskless Spy, the handsome Frenchman‘s face frowning in it‘s usual manner. The Medic chuckled, picking up the picture and inspecting it closely. 

XXX

As the Scout’s mother removed her rings, she looked to the last image on the jewellery box, the most important one. She‘d played around with many men in her wild years but this one was different. A frowning gentleman, slightly hooked nose, intelligent eyes and handsome, thick black hair, slicked back. She took the picture from the lid to look at it a little closer, bringing a hand to her hair to curl it over her ear. 

….What a familiar face, but she couldn’t quite place it, which was disappointing really because after finding out she was pregnant he’d left swiftly, never to be seen again.


	14. The Scout

“Not again, you too?”

“Ja, the formula just doesn’t seem to be responding.”

“Have you tried..”

The Red Medic was on the phone. Hand clenched into a tight fist around some paperwork, the stuff was all over the place. He pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly lowered himself to his chair with a heavy sigh, still holding the receiver to his ear. 

“Ja, have you tried sending anyone though it?”

“Don’t want to risk it.”

“Ours is still working.”

“Are you really suggesting I just..come over there, casually walk into your base?”

It was the Red Medic’s turn to laugh now, lowering a hand onto his knee as he sighed fondly. He was on the phone to his rival, the Blu Medic. The man was a sensible chap and they’d gone to medical school together, unlike himself the Blu Medic also still had his medical license and often worked in orphanages and other remote locations to obtain extra money to send back to his family. They’d originally met though Dove fancying and had been fond friends ever since. Unfortunately they’d found one another on the opposite sides of the war after both men going for the same position at Red, there was no hard feelings and only a day after was the other Medic offered the job at Blu. The two often exchanged words on the battlefield, and every now and then, when the Administrator permitted it, she allowed them to meet up for coffee, it was a rare occasion that she was feeling generous, especially after what had happened between the Red Demoman and Blu Soldier. 

“…Shall I ask permission from mutter?”

He joked, knowing that getting an audience with the Administrator could be a once in a lifetime opportunity, however he and Helen spoke more often than the other Mercs, as it was his job to file the medical reports and hand in anything worthy of being mentioned. He knew Helen would allow the Blu Medic over, especially if it was in regards to the respawner, which had apparently gone faulty. If the two Mercs fixed it, it saved cash from her pocket and the time from her hands. 

XXX

It had all been arranged, Helen had dismissively given the Red Medic permission, barely interested in what the German was chattering on about. He’d just gotten off the phone with the Blu Medic and the man would be over just after lunch, but he wasn’t coming alone. The conversation had somehow whirled off to the Scouts. The Red had questioned the other about whether or not their Scout was still in their possession, he still was and the Blu offered to bring him along for a playdate. Of course the Red obliged, afterall he’d been stuck with the boy most evenings due to the Spy going on countless dates, all with the same woman no doubt! What was this world coming to? 

So when the Spy entered the Medbay, the Scout in his arms, who looked exhausted, the Medic took him from the disgruntled Frenchman, who adjusted the lapel of his suit and pushed another cigarette to his lips. 

“Going on an earlier date?”

“Non, I have other things I must attend to..”

He was about to thank the Medic, when he decided against it, turning his nose up as the Doctor kissed the boy in his arms on the forehead, cradling him like a small animal before lowering him to the large, soft dogbed he kept in the corner of the bay, attaching the short leash to the Scout’s collar.

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the Sniper would it, Herr Spy?”

The Spy didn’t reply, the Medic tutted then stroked the boy’s hair, then down his back, the Scout remained quiet, cuddling into the soft fleece immediately, content to be away from the Spy it would seem. Nowadays the boy didn’t respond to much, and when he saw a cock he often just opened his mouth and thighs, then just waited for it to be inserted inside of him. The Spy never fed or watered him, the Frenchman seemed to come home from his dates, slam the boy onto his bed and rut him until he was spent, sometimes he fell asleep still inside the Scout, who also slept, enjoying the privilege of being allowed in a bed. 

He was always severely beaten the next morning, the boy now missing most of his teeth as a result. It was no different today when the Spy had brought the Scout to the Medic, one eye with popped veins from pressure, the other black, his nose coated in crusted dried blood and his skinny frame bruised and battered. The Medic never healed him using the medigun, simply telling the boy that kisses would make everything better, and it always ended up with the German’s cock down the Scout’s throat. The Medic went about his daily business after the Spy left, and after doing the usual chores of the morning, he unchained the Scout, picking him up and taking him though the kitchen and into the bathroom. He often locked the boy in there, to give him more space. He turned the water off at the main switch so the boy couldn’t drown himself and more often than not when he checked on the Scout, he was curled up in the bed sleeping. Sometimes he’d dragged the bed into the bathtub and slept in there. The bathroom was also where he’d put the boy’s litter tray, which he immediately took the Scout over to. He lifted him up and lowered him over the tray, spreading the boy’s legs and holding his cock for him. The Scout whimpered, despite all the times he’d done it and the more humiliating things that’d happened to him, he still blushed, feeling his piss pour down into the litter, turning his head to tuck it into the Doctor’s chest as he whimpered. The Doctor always praised him, which was practically what he lived for now, before setting him down onto the bed, he’d taken in earlier, which he’d set under the sink.

XXX

There was a knock at his door, he knew his team mates wouldn’t be so polite as to knock and wait, moving into a stand, looking to the mirror to check his hair, straighten out his tie, the Medic moved to the door, opening it up and opening both arms as he greeted his old friend. The Blu Medic was remarkably similar in looks to his Red Counterpart, the same square jaw and dull grey eyes. They both had that same clinical stare when in a bad mood and both got agitated by the same things. He had with him, against his chest, hanging on like a baby monkey, the Blu Scout. The boy was extremely thin, right down to the bones, his face gaunt and those eyes empty and lifeless. 

“How are you! Come in, come in, we must get the kettle going, much to talk about.”

The Red Medic lead the way into the lab, the Blu looking around carefully, taking it all in. There was a moment of silence before the Blu Medic broke it.

“What should I do with this?”

He motioned towards the Blu Scout in his arms, who trembled in the cold breeze from the small open window. The Red Medic laughed, waving him over to the kitchen, walking him though before unlocking the bathroom door. The Blu Medic looked in, looking around once before spotting the little curled up body in the dogbed beneath the sink. 

“You still keep that collar on yours?”

“Not mine, he belongs to Herr Spy, I just regularly babysit.”

As they spoke, the Red Scout watched as the Blu Medic put the weak boy down onto the floor. 

“You just leave him in here? What if he turns the wa-.”

“That is all taken care of, come, I’ll make some tea.”

The Red Medic ushered the Blu out of the room, locking the door and leaving the two together. The Blu Scout was emaciated, and he looked as though he struggled to even lift his head as he looked around the room. His mouth hung open as if he was struggling to process his new environment, eyes finally meeting with the Red Scout curled up in the bed. He slowly approached and the Red boy lifted his head, banging it against the underside of the sink with a wince. The two slowly approached once another, both as nervous as the other, gently the Blu Scout would take the Red’s hand, clutching gently as his small frame quivered with something that wasn’t fear, for once in his life. The Red swallowed softly, unable to even squeeze the other’s hand back with reassurance due to his missing fingers and thumbs. He edged closer, bringing their chests close together but the Blu edged back a little, a small sound escaping him as he closed his eyes tightly, as if expecting to be hit. Tears trickled down the Red boy’s cheeks as the Blu Scout kept his hand holding the other’s, his form quivered, his back curled, each and every knot in his spine visible as he very slowly moved to cuddle in against the other’s chest. The Red wrapped his arm around the other, pulling him in, trying to be the stronger one. 

“Hello.”

The Red Scout eventually whispered, his voice as low as he could make it, terrified somebody would hear him, come in and ruin the moment. The Blu boy didn’t seem to respond at all, keeping his head curled in and glancing at the floor with a blank, non responsive face. The hand clutched his again a little tighter and he carefully pulled the other into the soft, warm bed with him. The Blu boy’s trembling increased in response to the warmth, his tiny heart pounded rapidly as he made a soft sound in pleasure, just to feel warmth that wasn’t another human body. 

“Hello.”

The Red Scout said again, his free stump of a hand moving to gently touch the Blu boy’s face, who flinched and immediately brought a hand up to cover his mouth, the trembling increased and the Red Scout shook his head, whispering. 

“It’s okay..I..I wont hurt you.”

He choked back the tears, which poured down his cheeks, closing his eyes and blinking back as more came. He clutched the other tightly to his form, sobbing gently as he rocked the other back and fourth. The Blu boy held on tightly for a moment before slowly sliding a hand up to the Red’s cheek, gently taking it before looking up at him, shaking his head as another small sound escaped him. His fingers slowly stroked beneath the Red’s eye, wiping the tears away before forcing the bravest smile he could muster. Unlike the Red Scout, the Blu boy still had all his teeth, with rabbit like buckteeth at the front, the Red imagined he’d been a popular, handsome boy in his prime, much like himself had been, before everything had been stripped away. Even compared to the boy he’d seen those few weeks ago on that bus, he was different, he’d deteriorated rapidly.

“I promise. We’ll get away from this.”

He said next and the Blu boy continued to just stare up at him, the fingers from his other hand uncurled before he shook his head once more, bringing a hand to his ear, then shaking his head again. The Red Scout understood now and just when he thought he couldn’t contain his sorrow anymore, things had just gone from bad to worse. The Blu boy had suffered a head trauma so bad that he’d lost use of his hearing. The way he swayed when he wasn’t being held up confirmed it, and the Red Scout only gripped onto the other harder. 

They sat there in silence, just sharing one another’s body warmth and company, the Red Scout hummed ever so softly, despite the boy not being able to hear him, he could still feel the slight rumble as he held his head to his Red counterpart’s chest. 

XXX

The door opened and the two stiffened, staring as the Red Medic appeared, holding two bowls of honey porridge. He didn’t say anything but gave the two boy’s a stern stare as he set the bowls down by the door next to the litter tray, closing the door. The click of the lock heard, the two Scouts remained still, the Red only moving once he’d heard the footsteps moving away from the door. The Red Scout untangled himself from the Blu, slowly crawling out of the dog bed and taking himself over to the bowls, motioning for the Blu Scout to follow. The Blu boy did so, his heart pounding rapidly as he caught sight of the food, the smell hitting his nostrils. His mouth opened wide, his hands shaking as he looked to his Red counterpart as if for permission. When the Red Scout glanced to the other, he blinked back, holding his bowl to his mouth with his palms, already with porridge running down his chin. However the Blu boy now crouched in against himself, bending his knees and closing his thighs tightly and holding his arms around his curled in form as he tucked his head in. The Red looked confused at the Blu boy’s actions, he gently touched his shoulder, stroking down it to reassure the Blu that everything was okay, but the boy wouldn’t move. The Red Scout was about to say something when he saw the yellow fluid leaking down from behind and around the boy, realising immediately what’d happened. The Blu Scout had been so excited by just seeing food that he’d pissed himself and was now desperately trying to hide it, knowing he’d be severely punished for making a mess. The Red placed a hand on the boy’s tucked in head, stroking his hair and trying to ease the other’s head up, to look up at him. The Blu made a small sound in fear, his eyes trembling in their sockets as he slowly sat up, keeping his thighs tightly shut as he sat in his own mess. The Red Scout took his face between both of his palms, looking into his eyes and slowly mouthing to him.

“It’s okay. I’m here, I wont hurt you.”

He wasn’t sure if the Blu really understood but he did seem to relax, his mouth quivering, fingers twitching as he stared at the bowl of porridge. The Red Scout followed his gaze, lifting up the bowl and offering it to the Blu, who took it very carefully, eyes never leaving his Red Counterparts, as if waiting for it to be taken from him. When no such thing happened he slowly lowered his mouth to it, his tongue sliding out as he began to lap the substance up. In moments the Blu boy was crying again, small high pitched sounds of agony escaped him as he lowered the bowl, almost dropping it to the floor as he held both hands to his mouth. The Red looked confused, setting his own bowl down, the stuff had been lukewarm so the boy couldn’t have burned himself. 

“Hey..hey, it’s okay.”

He said, despite the other being unable to hear his words. He gently pawed at the boy’s hands with the back of his hands 

“What’s wrong?”

He whispered, the boy opened his mouth wide, he’d swallowed down the food but he seemed to be in pain. His gums were swollen, puffy and red, his teeth yellowed, and judging from the smell of the neglected boy’s mouth, he had some kind of gum disease. 

“Hey..hey…”

The Red Scout said gently, to the boy who immediately brought his hands back up to his painful mouth, he managed a croaky whimper, before gently uttering his first word that day.

“Pain.”

It broke the Red Scout’s heart, who wrapped his arms around him once more, he didn’t care about the urine getting on him, he pulled the other in tightly and just swayed him gently, kissing his neck, trying to sooth him as much as he could. His own situation was bad, it was fucked up, he was a thing, defeated, he belonged to them, but the Blu Scout, his journey looked as though it had been longer and considerably worse. The Red Scout stared over the Blu’s shoulder as he held him, glaring at the wall, no, he wasn’t defeated. Seeing the damaged boy in his arms gave himself new light, it gave him something to fight for, no, somebody, somebody to fight for, somebody to save. 

“I will get out of here.”

He whispered, despite the boy being unable to hear him.

“I will get out of here and then I will come and save you, I will take you away from the pain, I’ll take it away, I wont let them hurt you anymore.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat, slowly unwrapping his arms, holding the Blu Scout’s elbow against what remained of his hands and staring into his eyes. 

“I will save you.”

XXX

The Blu Scout ate very slowly, and every mouthful he took, he winced and squirmed in agony. The Red held him, remaining close and sharing his body warmth, whispering words of encouragement which fell on deaf ears. When the boy ate, he made sounds of both pleasure and pain. The delicious honey flavour was like heaven to him, he lived on dog food back at the Blu base, the dry biscuits practically flavourless, the Red kept an eye on him, to make sure he didn‘t choke or bite his tongue. He managed half the bowl before admitting defeat, unused to eating no more than a few dog biscuits a day, and even then he had to crush them up into tiny pieces because he was unable to chew. When he was done, he looked a little lost for what to do, sitting there in his own mess, the Red Scout brought himself into a stand. Taking a towel off the rack between his teeth, he eased his Blu counterpart down onto his back, and the boy opened his thighs, bending his knees and knocking his head back, only the previous night had the Red Scout taken up the same position before the Spy, but seeing another present themselves in such a way made the Red boy sick, especially when he noticed what they’d done to the Blu Scout. The boy had been castrated, a clean professional job, but it looked awful, and the Red boy cringed at the thought of such a thing. He swallowed down, gently dropping the towel onto the boy’s lap, who looked up at him in confusion. The Red Scout made a few motions with his hands, and the Blu understood, beginning to wipe himself clean, he lifted his emaciated form, scrubbing the floor and the Red hoped it’d be enough for the Medics not to notice. 

The Red Scout pushed the towel into a nearby waste bin, knowing he’d be punished later, but he didn’t care, his new lease of life, his new found attitude permitted it. He’d take any punishment these bastards had to offer. They spent the rest of the afternoon curled up together in the dog bed, they held one another tightly, both resting peacefully. It felt so good to the Blu Scout to be held like this, to sleep in warmth without a draft, to be held and cuddled, but the biggest pain remained and it traumatised him the most, soon this comfort was all going to be taken away from him.

XXX

The door unlocked and both boy’s lifted their heads sleepily, both Medics stepped inside, looking down at the intertwined Scouts, they looked in good spirits which must have meant they’d found some kind of solution to the Blu Medic’s problem. 

“How lazy, sleeping the whole time.”

The Blu Medic said cheerfully, approaching and gripping onto the Blu Scout from behind from beneath his arm pits, pulling him out from the Red boy’s arms and turning him to his chest. The man must have had quite the nose because he immediately turned it up, sniffing.

“Another accident?”

The Red Scout sat up, tears running down his cheeks, watching the back of his Blu counterpart which was rising and falling with devastated, desperate sobs. The Blu Medic patted the boy’s bare buttocks, shaking his head. 

“Will deal with you when we get back.”

He didn’t seem to have even acknowledged the fact that the boy was deaf, the Red Scout couldn’t even imagine the amount of punishments the boy would have had to endure due to “not listening”. 

“I tend to diaper mine when not provided with a litter tray, keeps things clean.”

The Red Medic suggested, as if he was talking about toilet training a dumb animal. The two turned their backs, moving to the door and the Red Scout got up, following, still sobbing gently. The Blu boy stared over the Medic’s shoulder at his Red counterpart, a hand reaching out behind the man for the boy. His fingers grazed the Scout’s stump, just as the door swung shut in the Red Scout’s face, the sound of the lock heard followed by footsteps and conversation as the two walked away. The Scout saw red, he flung his knuckles against the door, smashing at it with all the strength he could muster, he threw his frame against it, sliding down onto his knees and staring at the floor. 

He had to survive now, he had to, because if he didn’t? Nobody would save the Blu Scout. If he didn’t survive, neither would that boy. For the first time during this month in hell the boy nurtured and cherished something he never thought he’d feel again.

Hope.


	15. Sandman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extremely dubious stuff ahead, you've been warned.

The Medic had handed a sleeping Scout back to the Spy that following evening, the boy was extremely docile and just allowed himself to be handled by the two, even when woken up. The Medic brought it down to the fact that the boy was exhausted from interacting with his Blu counterpart that day when really the Scout had found a new lease of life and was planning on leading the pair into a false sense of security. 

“How did the date go?”

“There wasn’t a date.”

“…Herr Sniper?”

The Medic frowned after suggesting, he’d told the Frenchman not to step foot near the man’s camper. The Spy, holding the boy against his shoulder rolled his eyes as he stepped back from the med bay’s opening. 

“Are you suggesting I went on a date with the Sniper?”

“..Don’t get smart with me Herr Spy, if you weren’t going on a date, what were you doing?”

“..I’m a Spy, on YOUR side, is this really necessary?”

XXX

The Spy made it back to his room and set the docile boy down onto his bed, removing the diaper the Doctor always insisted on putting him in, gripping the boy’s upper thigh and rubbing his buttocks with the other. The Scout looked up at him, mustering the most defeated look he could, eyes glossy and little mouth quivering, the Spy only grinned. 

“Mon chaton, your mother is doing very well.”

As he spoke he continued to touch the boy all over, fingers exploring the trembling frame. The Scout closed his eyes, his breath hitching as he fought with every urge not to kick or punch the man hovering over him.

“…She’s very beautiful.”

The words whispered as he moved his body over the Scout, legs moving between the boy’s spread thighs, fingers rubbing as he pressed his lips to the boy’s ear.

“…But you’re much tighter than she is.”

The Scout leaned his head back as he felt the man’s finger push into his slack hole, pressing in all the way to the knuckle and holding it there.   
“…She’s like a bucket, boy…a dirty..unwashed bucket, wide, like a ca-…”

That’s when the Scout punched, and he hit the Frenchman square in the jaw. The man stumbled back in surprise, finger sliding out of him. The boy moved up, another fist flying, but the Spy caught it, then began to twist the boy’s wrist, forcing his weight down as the Scout was forced back down onto the bed with a startled cry. 

“Temper..temper boy, you’re forgetting your place.”

The Scout bared his teeth, legs raised as he kicked the Frenchman full force in the gut with both feet, the wind knocked out of him, the Spy stumbled back, cigarette falling from his mouth. The Scout shot up into a stand on the bed, backing up, eyes desperately scanning the room as the Spy regained his composure quickly, stepping on the cigarette.

“Your mother is a dirty whore who only conceived you and the rest of your brothers to exploit money from men. You’re nothing but a piggy bank, boy.”

The Spy pulled on the wrist of his glove, watching as the heat slowly rose up the boy’s naked frame, creeping up to his face as anger spread across his features. He knew he should have gone for the door, he should have moved around the Frenchman, but he couldn’t let that go, that shit was personal. His entire body tensed as he stared at the Spy, who was busying himself by lighting up another cigarette, eyes raised to observe the boy. 

“…That’s not true, it ain’t, I love my Ma!”

The Spy backed up, eyes on the boy he picked up the remote for the television then proceeded to point it at the screen.

“…If it wasn’t true, then why is she doing…THIS?!”

He shouted, pressing the button, the television coming to life, showing a bright and cheerful children’s program. The Scout stared.

“…Ahem… THIS!”

The Spy pressed the correct button this time, the screen switching to the livefeed down in the basement. On her knees, wrists tied together behind her, was the boy’s mother. Still dressed in the same lovely tight dress the Spy had met her in the day before, he’d drugged her and taken her back to the base. He’d been a busy man. 

“..M-Mama!”

Scout cried, his form beginning to tremble as the camera zoomed in closer. She had an O gag strapped tightly to her mouth, lips forced wide open around a pounding arousal. It was the Demoman who was having a go right now, taking a swig of his drink as he repeatedly fucked her throat. Her make up was running down her face, lipstick smeared across her cheek as she was forced to repeatedly take the cock. 

“She isn’t half as good as her son.”

Both the Scout and Spy heard the Medic say from the feed, the man off to the side, enjoying a cup of tea while he watched. The Spy knew the German would be there, eventually after trying to tip toe around the man and his interrogation, he’d had to explain where he’d been and the Medic had been pleasantly surprised. Why the Spy would kidnap the boy’s mother, God only knows, but if it meant boosting the moral of the Red team and easing out any frustrations, he was happy to allow it to continue. 

“She’s been down there most of yesterday and all of last night..who knows how much cock she’s been filled with.”

The Spy chuckled, watching as the boy tried to look away, the anger on his face was still there, but his face had considerably paled, his lips quivering and tears running down his cheeks. If he’d had his fingers he’d have balled his hands into fists, instead he clenched his knuckles, flying at the Spy in a fit of anger. The Frenchman barely moved, remote still in one hand he effortlessly punched the boy hard in the face, slamming him down to the floor. He lowered a foot to the boy’s head, applying his weight. 

“Don’t move, chaton.”

He grinned, watching as the Scout squirmed. He began to shout abuse, shrieking and screaming hysterically as the Frenchman dropped the remote, lifting his foot only to replace it with his hand, gripping the boy by the back of his hair and forcing him up into a stand. The Scout punched and kicked, pulling from the Spies grip and backing up, but the Frenchman was considerably stronger than the starved, weakened boy, easily snatching up his wrists and dragging him closer to the television screen. The Demoman had pulled his cock from her wide open mouth and she was panting loudly as hands moved in from behind her, to remove her gag.

“P-Please..let..let me see my son, my baby, where is he!?”

She stammered, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed. 

“Looks like we’re going to have a family reunion.”

XXX

After knocking the Scout out, the Frenchman had thrown the boy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him all the way down to the basement. By the time he’d got there, the Soldier and Engineer had joined them. The Texan and the German were stood off to the side while waiting for the coffee to brew, while the Demo had busied himself with pulling the Scout’s mother up into a chair. Her wrists tied to the back of it, she was barely conscious, the way she closed her eyes suggested she was trying to imagine that she was somewhere else right now. 

“Gentlemen.”

The Spy announced, stepping into the cold, stone room, the door latching shut behind him. He dropped the boy to the floor, who writhed some onto his back, eyes rapidly blinking as his lips parted. The Mother screamed in horror at the sight of her precious youngest, his battered, bruised and mutilated body writhing as he slowly came to, the cool air causing his naked form to shiver.

“…S-Son? Son, my..my baby?”

She managed, blinking back in disbelief. She tried to pull forward in her chair, using her heels to drag the chair towards the Scout, anything to get to her little boy. 

“M-Ma? Mama!”

He immediately responded to her voice, his Mama, his beautiful Mother. What remained of his hands lifted, his body quivering as he brought himself painfully up to his knees, he leaned forward, shuffling towards her. 

“Mama..Mama.”

“That’s right, come here, I’m okay, I’m okay my precious boy.”

She reassured. The Mercs stood by and watched as the boy threw his arms around her bound form, sobbing hysterically into her lap, his cold, thin body rising and falling. She leaned forward against him, the only thing she could do, straining her neck in order to kiss the top of his head. 

“…We’re gonna’…go home..and…a-and..”

“That’s right Son, we’re going to go home..and I’ll cook you a delicious meal. We’ll go for a walk..and..and we’ll go to the park.”

“…And you can watch me play? Watch me play baseball?”

“Always Son, the weathers going to be beautiful…and sunny.”

Footsteps were heard approaching and the Scout’s head shot up, looking up at the Spy who now stood beside his mother. The Frenchman was holding a gun to her temple. She lifted her head, keeping her form completely still, but eyes were still on the boy. 

“…Now? Why don’t you show your mother how much you really love her?”

Slowly, a sinister smile spread across the Frenchman’s lips, the Scout looked up at him, balling what remained of his fists. He began to pull himself into a stand but felt a boot against his back, applying pressure until his face hit the concrete floor. The Soldier stepped back, lowering his riding crop to the boy’s buttocks and giving him a firm slap. 

“You heard the man, sweetheart.”

His tone dripping with sarcasm, using the crop to urge the boy forward. The Demoman moved in now, kneeling beside Scout’s mother, he grabbed the hem of her tiny dress, the stretch material rolling up as he pulled it, all the way up to her belly. Then, he parted her thighs, revealing her pussy, which dripped with a cocktail of the Merc’s cum and her piss.

“You heard the man, go on, show Mummy some love, boy.”

He laughed and she closed her eyes tightly, her breathing increasing as her form trembled. 

“..Shoot me. Shoot us. Shoot us both. We’ve suffered enough!”

She whispered, her voice raising an octave with each word. 

“You don’t wanna see Mama die do you?”

The Soldier sneered behind the boy, lowering the crop harshly against the boy’s buttocks, who slowly crawled forward, edging closer before sitting up on his knees between his mother’s thighs. 

“..M-Ma..I can’t. I can’t live on this planet without you.”

The Scout didn’t even realise he was sobbing, his bottom lip trembling, his entire frame shivering, swallowing lumps as his stomach threatened vomit. He looked up at her, then the Spy, who, just to prove he was serious, removed the safety from his gun. 

“…Y-You’ll spare her? You’ll spare her?”

He whispered, holding onto his mother’s thighs tightly, kneading them as he looked up at the Spy, the Frenchman nodded. 

“She will go free, but you? You will always belong to us.”

The Scout swallowed, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to his Mother’s pussy. He closed his eyes, remaining still before feeling another whip against his exposed buttocks. 

“Give her a bit of tongue!”

He heard someone demand, and the Scout turned his head, slowly sliding his tongue out and licking between the insides of her folds. 

“Deeper.”

“Show her how much you missed her, boy!”

The Scout’s mother closed her eyes tightly, glad for the numb sensation from the repeated poundings, a shiver creeping up her spine as she retched, dry heaving as she desperately tried to block out what was happening. 

“Keep licking, go on, give her a kiss.”

The Scout sobbed, his lips moving as he kissed and licked, sliding his tongue deeper into her slit, tasting those disgusting men. When a hand smacked him in the back of his head, he fell forward, nose moving inside her, the smell of her piss forced into his nostrils. He pulled his head away, panting heavily, coughing before vomit came up, drooling down her leg. 

“I-I’m..I’m so sorry Mama.”

He whispered, trying to wipe it off her. He felt the riding crop slide between his buttocks before feeling another smack, followed by another. He yelped with each, coughing as he clutched onto his mother’s legs, pressing his cheek to her knee and shaking his head. 

“Don’t..don’t make me, none more, please. I can’t.”

“…You don’t want Mama to die do you, boy?”

The Spy spoke, just over a whisper, his tone laced with false sympathy and sarcasm as he looked down at the hunched over boy. He brought his free hand out over her shoulder, pulling the strap down of her dress, then pulling her bra down, revealing one of her large breasts. It had bite marks and scratches on it already. 

“Go on…”

The Spy urged and the Scout raised his head, looking up and managing another sob.

“Please…don’t..”

“You want her to die? Do you?”

“N-No..no!”  
“Then suck. Suck like the infant you are.”

He grinned, watching as the Scout slowly raised his form.

“Go on, sit on Mama’s knee.”

Doing as he was told, he sat down, turning his head and gripping onto her as tightly as he could, despite the lack of fingers, he pressed his head to her chest, cuddling in as more fat tears rolled down his cheeks, nuzzling his head in beneath her chin.

“I’m so sorry Ma.”

What remained of his hands clutched tighter and the Spy pushed the barrel of the gun harder against her temple in warning. He did as he was told, bringing his head to her exposed breast and wrapping his lips around her hard nipple, suckling. She flinched, her mouth quivering as she sobbed.

“Good boy.”

Said the Spy, urging the boy.

“Keep going. Keep sucking.”

He whimpered around her nipple, doing as he was told.

“…Now you’re gonna’ show her how much you really love her.”

The Scout felt a hand on the back of his head, a strong arm pulling him from his mother’s lap. The Demo remained, keeping her thighs nice and spread. The Scout shook his head.

“None more..none more.”

The Spy shot the gun, shifting it inches from the woman’s face, the bullet hitting the floor and ricocheting off to the side. She screamed out in fear and the Scout panicked, reaching for her once more, falling forward against her legs and holding on tightly. 

“What was that?”

He sneered, watching as the Scout looked up at him, the fear and despair in the boy’s eyes was delicious to the Frenchman. 

“Go on…now it’s time to fuck Mama and make her feel good.”

He heard the Soldier behind him, the Scout shook his head, his bottom lip quivering. 

The boy felt hands behind him, pulling him back, fingers on his cock as he squirmed, crying out for help, reaching for his Mama. 

“Please, don’t! Don’t!”

His Mother cried.

“Enough! Enough of this!” 

She began to scream, watching as the Soldier pulled the boy up, pushing him against her so hard, both bodies almost went over the chair she was strapped down to. 

“Best do as we say or you’ll know what happens, lad!”

The Demo took a swig of his drink, pressing it to the Scout’s mother’s cheek. She whimpered, looking down at her Son.

“Just..just pretend you’re..playing..a game..somewhere..don’t..you don’t have to be here, son. I love you, so much..this..this isn’t real okay? Soon we’ll be home, and I’ll..make us some toast and you can watch as much televsion as you like.”

She rambled, her entire frame rocking slightly as the boy was repositioned against her, forcing him between her thighs awkwardly, hands on his dick, forcing it up into his Mother’s slack folds. The Scout sobbed the entire time, his hands pawing at her awkwardly. 

“If you don’t start fucking her, I’m going to blow her brains out.”

“..You don’t want us to force you to fuck a corpse do you boy?”

The Medic added in, over the brim of his coffee cup. The Scout leaned in against his Mother’s form, lips to her ear he gently whispered. 

“I’m sorry Mama. I love you.”

Before pushing his slack cock into her folds, the Soldier stepped back to watch as the Scout desperately began to mount his own Mother, whimpering and sobbing as he repeatedly rutted back and forth. He pressed his face against her neck, hysterical sobs escaped him as he clutched onto her tightly. 

BANG.

The Scout jolted in shock, throwing his form back as the trigger was squeezed. The boy fell back on his ass, eyes huge when he realised he was covered in blood, flesh and brain matter. He managed a tiny sound of realisation as he slowly lifted his head, looking up at the slumped body of his Mother’s corpse, smoke still filtering from the open neck. 

“N-No.”

He managed, his body immobilised, the boy in shock as he stared. His hand slowly moved up, fingers would have outstretched if he’d had any.

“…Y-You..you said you’d..”

“Let her go? Yes. And I did, she’s no longer here, oui?”

The Spy grinned, nudging the corpses shoulder with the barrel of his gun. 

“N-No..no..no….no..no..”

The boy lowered his hands, kneeling as blood pooled at his legs, his mouth twitched, his stomach heaved and his entire body heated up as he grew light headed. He looked up at the Spy, his eyes empty, his face twisted into a visage of pure horror. 

“…No..no..”

He whispered, before slumping forward, face hitting the concrete full force as he passed out.

“…That was a little far.”

The Engineer cleared his throat, approaching the scene and looking down at the headless corpse on the chair. The Spy shrugged, rolling his shoulders.

“I’ve waited years to extract my revenge on that gold digger, I’m not a man to be used like some bank.”

He adjusted his tie, stepped over the boy’s body and disappeared out the door, leaving the remaining Mercs to deal with both the boy and the mess.


	16. The Heavy

The Scout was just waking up. His entire body ached and his head pounded as he lay there, looking up at a pure white ceiling. He managed a few harsh sounds, taking in a deep breath as he rapidly blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. 

“Ma?”

He managed, his voice hoarse. A white sheet was pulled back as soon as he‘d made a sound, the Medic appearing beside him. The man looked surprised to see the boy awake and when he’d heard him, he’d immediately stopped what he was doing to investigate. 

“Good morning.”

The Doctor grinned, watching as the Scout looked down at his stubbed fingers, gulping back before retching. He pulled himself up on the medical bed, back against it as he swallowed rapidly, his eyes filling with tears as he choked, coughing as he held a hand to his own chest. 

“Sssh…sshh it’s okay.”

The Medic leaned in to rub the boy’s back, sliding his hand up to touch the collar around his neck, fingers then stroking out the boy’s dirty hair. The Scout immediately sprung up, smacking the back of his knuckles against the Medic’s face who cried out in surprise, stumbling back and falling into a table behind him. The boy threw himself to his feet, a wave of dizziness followed, his head swaying and his vision obscured with white spots. Forcing himself away from the man, falling onto his knees and gripping loosely onto a table, pushing his body to pull himself up against it. He was panting heavily, watching as the Medic straightened out his back, cussing in German as he grabbed for a scalpel.

“I suggest you sit down where you are boy and don’t move.”

The Scout trembled, his body lowering as his buttocks hit the floor. He looked up at the Doctor, those blue eyes narrowed and full of determination. Memories were flooding back, his Ma, his beautiful mother, dead, gone. There was nothing keeping him here now. He bared his teeth as the Medic approached, the Doctor lowering a hand to grip the Scout by his head, pulling him up. The Scout moved with the hand, suddenly swinging for the Doctor’s other, which still held the scalpel. He swiped hard, hard enough that the Medic dropped the blade he’d been loosely carrying. 

“You little..AH!”

The Scout slammed his knee forward, right between the good Doctor’s thighs, his body fuelled by determination and adrenaline alone. The Medic stumbled back, caught off guard by the boy who’d always been so broken and docile. Clutching himself as he shuddered, tears running down his cheeks at the pain that shockwaved though him, some of the doves flew from their perches, startled by the commotion. The Scout picked up the scalpel loosely between the tiny stumps he had remaining of his fingers, curving his palm around the handle to strengthen his grip. He moved forward, wobbling slightly, bringing the scalpel to the Doctor’s face, who laughed at the boy. 

“Do you really think doing this will do you any favours boy?”

“What? You gonna’ kill me? Torture me? Fuck you. I ain’t got nothing to live for so do your worst you freaking moron.”

The Medic shot a hand up, gripping the boy’s wrist and twisting it, his other grabbing for his throat, yanking him to the side. The Scout dropped the scalpel, shouting out as he kicked his legs, screaming out loudly and kicking up a fuss. The noise was loud enough that the med bay door opened, The Heavy appeared, his towering frame having to move on it’s side in order to fit though the door. He immediately approached.

“Doctor. What happen?”

He questioned, lowering a hand to the Medic’s shoulder, urging him to set the boy down, but the German only gripped him tighter.

“He attacked me. I’m going to teach him a lesson.”

The Medic spoke though gritted teeth, his body practically trembling with rage as he stepped on the scalpel on the floor, concealing it from the boy beneath his foot as he dropped him, the Scout crumpling to the floor in a heap. He glared between the two of them. 

“What, you wanna’ go?”

The Scout managed weakly, his body practically limp, his muscles strained as he held his head up high. 

“Hurt Doctor? Did you hurt my Doctor?”

The Heavy spoke, those soft, small eyes now gazing down upon the boy who looked about ready to fall unconscious. He tried to speak, but it was all catching up with him, that burst of energy had cost him. 

“Ja. I’m fine, Misha. No matte-..”

“I deal with lesson. I teach little man a lesson.”

He lowered a huge hand down to grip the back of the boy’s collar, slowly pulling him up by it, effortlessly bringing the boy up to eye level. The Scout stared back at him, silently welcoming the challenge, weakly kicking his legs. The Heavy was about to speak when the boy spat, right at his face, a huge glob of saliva pooling down the side of the giant’s face. 

“Yes. See what you mean, must be disciplined.”

The Medic stared in horror, practically waiting for the Heavy to grab the boy and squash his face between his fingers, but it didn’t happen. Instead the Russian lifted the boy up, cradling him in the crook of his arm, pinning the Scout against his massive chest. 

“Misha…are you sure.”

“Da. Leave with me. Nobody hurts my Doctor.”

He turned, his towering frame moving to the medbay door, the Medic called out to his turned back. 

“Take him back to the Spy when you’re finished, I don’t want him here anymore.”

The Medic couldn’t believe he’d lowered his guard, ashamed and quite frankly humiliated. He watched as the Heavy moved out the door, shutting it behind him, then the sound of his thundering footsteps was heard, echoing down the hallway. 

XXX

The Scout squirmed in the giant’s grip, turning his head and trying to wiggle free from the powerful grip the Russian had. When they passed the Heavy’s door the boy grew still for a moment, tensing, before realising they were going past it. Down the hall, towards the main entrance way before walking though the huge open twin doors which lead outside. The snow had fallen heavily the previous night and still tiny flakes were sprinkling down onto the calm and quiet base. The Engineer was tinkering with a sentry gun as they passed, raising a hand in a friendly wave, to which the Russian nodded back.

The Heavy continued to walk, still clutching the boy tightly, who by now was frantically trembling, pushing himself against the giant, desperate for warmth on his chilled body. The boy tried to take his mind off the cold, the fear, the pain in his joints and the Heavy himself by looking around at his environment, planning an escape route. He saw nothing of the unordinary, trees covered in snow, fences covered in snow, smaller buildings littered around the bases grounds…covered in snow. One thing in particular he did notice was the vast amounts of areas where the snow was yellow. Patches all over the place, like an animal had been marking it’s territory. 

They eventually got to around the back of the building, the Heavy not wanting his lesson to be disturbed. There was a higher level of snow because nobody came here. It crunched beneath the Heavy’s boots, the ground undisturbed and crisp. He’d set the boy down onto a particularly large pile, up against the building, the Scout clutched himself tightly, his teeth chattering as he closed his legs tightly around himself. 

“You have it easy. In Russia, this would be summers day.”

He lowered a hand to the pile of snow, digging it up, splattering it onto the trembling boy’s form, he dug down, deep, absentmindedly making the pile larger as he spoke. 

“We fight bears while you go to supermarket and we share body for warmth while you put heating on.”

He grabbed the boy by the ankle, shaking him roughly before forcing him onto his belly, the boy scrabbled in the snow, trying to escape as the Russian effortlessly grabbed the boy’s foot in one hand and his knee the other. He snapped the ankle as if it was a wish bone, a sickening crack followed by a shriek of pain from the boy, who flopped around like a fish out of water. 

“You hurt my Doctor, now it’s time I hurt you.”

He yanked the boy up by his neck, who frantically trembled from the fear, pain and cold, his eyes filled with tears, his cheeks red and puffy. The Heavy took the Scout’s shoulder, gripping his neck with one hand, the other holding the boy’s elbow tightly. He began to pull, hard, the Scout kicked his feet frantically, knocking his head back as he began to howl in pain. It was slow and agonising, he could feel the bones popping, his spine curling and his body spasming frantically as the ball popped out of the socket joint with a sickening crack. Another desperate shriek escaped the Scout as the Heavy threw him down into the snow, watching as he squirmed and sobbed, clutching his now limp, fractured arm.

Then much to the boy’s horror, the Heavy then brought a hand to his own pants, unzipping his fly and sliding out the biggest cock the Scout had ever seen. The boy stared in horror, grabbing at the snow, crawling, dragging himself up against the wall as he sobbed, shaking his head and pleading. The man was around nine inches in length, however the width was like that of a Cola can, hell it was thicker than a can of Bonk! The Heavy leaned over, grabbing the boy up and pulling him towards his form, forcing his face to the giant cock. 

“Show me your tongue.”

The Giant requested, the Scout doing as he was told, he wouldn’t be able to cope with another bone breakage. The boy opened his mouth, sliding his tongue out. He looked up at the Russian, pleading desperately with his eyes as the giant of a man brought one finger to the surface of the boy’s tongue. 

“We see if tiny boy’s hole fit my fist.”

He grinned, a gleem in his eye, as he applied a second finger into the Scout’s mouth. The boy quivered, closing his eyes as he opened his mouth as wide as he could. He was beginning to go numb all over as the icy wind stroked his trembling naked form. The Heavy inserted a third finger, then a forth, slowly curling them and forcing his fist between the boy’s lips, whose jaw began to ache, clicking and snapping. When he inserted his thumb, applying pressure, the boy began to lean back, making all kinds of frightened, muffled noises, his body curling into the bed of snow behind him as the Heavy leaned down, rubbing the head of his cock against the ice, not at all flinching. His entire fist in the boy’s mouth he held it there, the Scout looking up at him, desperately pleading, his working arm grabbing onto the man, kicking his legs as he coughed and retched around the giant’s skin. 

“Spread legs, nice and wide.”

The Scout closed his eyes tightly, knowing what was coming, horrified at himself as he opened his thighs, displaying his tiny flaccid cock. The Heavy brought his fingers to the boy’s puffy red hole, it was about to get more slack than it’d ever been. He picked up some snow, rubbing it on the boy’s hole, who murmured weakly around the fist in his mouth, tears running down his red cheeks. The giant continued to push more and more snow up into the boy’s hole, rubbing it around the rim, which only burned and throbbed in response to the ice. When he inserted his first finger, the Scout jolted, spine arching and body twisting, trying to get away from the hand. The finger was withdrawn and he applied two, two of the Heavy’s fingers alone was bigger than any cock the boy had taken, and despite the freezing snow, the boy was beginning to sweat in panic. 

“Good. Doctor wont let me do this.”

The giant explained, moving his fingers back and forth, spreading the ice inside the boy, who tried to close his thighs around the Heavy’s arm, but failing miserably. He managed a gargled shriek around the Russian’s fist as the man inserted a third finger, beginning to push them though to the knuckle back and forth, the boy’s rim cracked and bleeding. Nausea rising as the boy’s stomach began to churn, retching and coughing around the fist as the Heavy plunged in his thumb and smallest finger either side, without warning he punched into the boy, who screamed so loud, it caused both of their ears to thump. 

“How does that feel?”

The Heavy laughed, watching the squirming boy, whose one working arm was desperately grabbing at the giant, sobbing uncontrollably. The Heavy lifted him up on his fist, holding him upright in the air between both fists, bringing his gaze to the boy’s as he held him on both fists in each orifice. The boy just lay limp powerless to do a thing, tears running in heavy streams, mixing with the leaking snot from his nostrils. Blood was dripping from his lower lip and down his chin, and when the Heavy wiggled his fist within the boy’s mouth, he could feel his teeth dislodging from his gums. 

Slowly the giant lowered the boy back down, his huge form curling over his on his knees as he began to pull his fist out of the boy’s swollen hole. He wiggled it from left to right before pulling the entire fist out, the sensation caused the boy to urinate, pissing all over himself and down between his thighs. 

“Little man have tiny, puny penis.”

The Heavy spoke, attention now on the Scout’s tiny cock, the boy’s cheeks flushed in humiliation as the giant grabbed the boy’s small penis between his shit covered fingers. He pinched the head and the boy jolted, he pinched it again. 

“My little finger is bigger than.”

The Russian stated, applying his thumb to the head of the boy’s cock and beginning to push it down, added pressure, forcing his thumb into the piss slit bluntly. The boy began squirming again, a new burst of energy as he struggled to escape, but the Heavy continued to apply pressure, squashing the boy’s cock down and down until it began to bend, a horrific snap followed by the boy’s scream, his body flopping around against the snow as the Heavy let go, raising a hand to admire his handiwork. The boy’s cock hung bent and flaccid, fractured. It was already beginning to get darker, a tiny amount of blood trickled from the head due to, no doubt, a rupture of his urethra. 

“Now I fuck.”

The Heavy announced, pulling him up by the fist still lodged in the Scout’s mouth, his other hand grabbing the boy’s thigh and lifting him up, exposing his stretched open hole to the cold air. The Scout remained still, accepting of his fate as the Heavy lowered him down onto his huge erect cock, pushing the head in snugly before beginning to force feed the length into the boy. The Scout’s bottom lip trembled as he sobbed, the Heavy using him not unlike a sex doll, dragging his lifeless body up and down on his cock. He pushed himself forward into the snow, landing on the boy, crushing him as he sunk down into the cushion of ice. His fist scratching the back of the Scout’s throat as he choked, eyes rolling back as the giant crushed the boy’s body beneath his considerably larger frame. The Scout could feel his ribcage caving in, his chest compressing, his throat tightening as he choked, unable to breath. His cheeks and lips were beginning to blue from the lack of oxygen, but still the Heavy repeatedly pummelled the boy over and over, slamming him into the pile of snow until only the giant’s body was visible on the outside. 

The boy grabbed the air desperately with his one working arm, his eyes blinking back rapidly as darkness began to consume him. There was no mercy from the Russian as he repeated rutted the boy’s body against the ground, rampantly smashing him over and over. The Scout stared upwards, eyes open, he could only see darkness, a repeated thumping in his ears as his heart began to slow, his crushed organs giving in and his body slowly becoming numb. 

It was only when the Heavy came, his entire frame spasming in pleasure, raising his body and ripping his fist out of the boy’s mouth, did he realise that he’d been fucking a corpse for the past two minutes or so. He stared down at the limp boy, his eyes widening when he realised what he’d done. Suddenly pulling himself up, his huge hands raising as he stepped back, looking down at the dead body. 

“Doctor is not going to be happy.”

He managed, pulling his cock in his pants, then without thinking turning and moving as quick as his legs could carry him, rushing to the med bay. His back turned, unknowing of the boy’s body, that was beginning to dissolve into hundreds of tiny red sparkles, slowly absorbing each body part before vanishing. 

XXX

To the north of the base, in a large boxed room off to the side of the battle quarters. The respawn clicked, then proceeded to whirl to life.


	17. Boston Basher

His head dented in when the bat made contact. 

A sickening sound of wet flesh combusting on impact to expose a smashed skull, body flying and back hitting the wall, splattering it with brain matter. Slumping lifelessly to the ground. 

The Scout lowered a foot down onto the Spies crotch, he applied pressure as he swung the bat. He didn’t stop swinging it until the man was no longer recognisable, a mashed mess of blood and broken bone. He panted heavily, covered in his tormenters blood, everything around him was stained red. 

XXX

The respawn whirled to life, and the boy stood on shaking feet, stumbling from the particles of light and falling onto his knees. Vomit immediately escaped him and he coughed almost choking on the stuff, the puddle of bile forming at his knees as he panted, looking downwards with wide, bloodshot eyes., It was then he saw his fingers, stretching them out, flexing them, his heart pounded and for the first time in a very long time he smiled. They were there and they were perfect, he stood up carefully. For a moment the Scout indulged himself in a body that didn’t ache, a body intact with no bruises, no broken bones and no pain. The feeling was surreal, foreign. He touched his naked body all over as he began to walk. He only had one thing on his mind, no, one person. The Blu Scout. 

When he turned to the left he immediately came to a locker room. On the top of a cabinet was his baseball bat and he thought back to his dream, that mangled bloody face of his captor. It felt good, revenge on his mind he tried to put it to the back of his head for now, his priory was escape, to get to the Blu Scout, to take him and himself away from this nightmare. He picked up the bat, looking it over, the wood had split in places where somebody had been manhandling it, but as he swung it, it still felt sturdy and reliable in his hands. Next he began searching for clothes, anything to cover himself up after all this time of being naked. If he’d been clothed when he’d died, the respawn would have recovered his clothing and weapons, however, he’d been naked save for the collar around his neck, he was grateful it’d given him his fingers back. 

After looking though the lockers, which were mostly empty or contained dirty washing nobody wanted to deal with, he found stuffed in one, his duffle bag. He pulled it out, hastily opening it up and rummaging though. The snacks he’d brought with him on his arrival date were gone, but his clean clothes were there. He gathered a shirt up, and slowly sunk to his knees. 

It smelt of Ma. 

The washing powder she used, the scent of her perfume. He always complained when she ironed stuff because he wanted his clothes as soon as possible, but Ma had always insisted she iron the creases out. He traced his fingers over the smooth clothing before clutching the shirt to his face beginning to sob. He whimpered softly as tears rolled down his cheeks, sniffing as he rubbed his nose, the respawn had fixed his body, but his mind would forever be damaged. 

He gulped, pulling himself up into a stand before speedily dressing himself. Red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, pants pulled up with a belt, socks rolled up to his knees underneath. The only things missing were his shoes, but at this point, he didn’t care. He was clothed and it felt fucking amazing. He rummaged though his bag to search for something useful, his wallet was in there but the money had been stolen, he found his dogtags, putting them around his neck. The final touch was the removal of his collar. He brought his fingers to it, tracing the buckle at his throat. It was so thick and heavy, but he was so used to wearing it he’d forgotten all about it. Unbuckling and sliding it from his neck he held the thick strap of leather in his hands, he turned with his fingers, his other hand lifting to touch his neck, which felt cold and exposed. He contemplated taking the collar with him, but in the end he dropped it to the floor, he didn’t’ want any physical memories of this place. 

Standing up, bat lowered he began to move, navigating the base was easier than he thought as everything was sign posted. He was quick, silent, careful. He felt strong and powerful, stalking like a panther. Then he heard footsteps coming his way. As he moved down the narrow corridor, he shifted his form to the side, pushing himself into a room, which turned out to be a utility closet. It was full of buckets, empty and clean, as if somebody really took care of them. The footsteps passed along with a voice, talking to themselves. The Scout slowly opened the door, leaning out and looking down the corridor. 

It was the Medic and he was alone. 

The Scout would slink out from the closet, slowly beginning to stalk. His mind kept telling him there was no time for revenge, but the opportunity has presented itself and there was no going back. He was extremely swift, darting in complete silence in those socks and swinging the bat full force at the Doctor’s head. The Medic fell like a ton of bricks with a loud crack as the bat met with the back of his head, his body hitting the floor with a small cry of surprise and pain all mangled into one. The Scout was on him in seconds, grabbing his shirt with one hand and shoving him against the wall. 

“Looking for me?”

The Scout tapped the bat against the wall, inches from the Doctor’s face, who slumped down on his ass. 

“Oh..Scout…I was just coming to get you home.”

The Medic forced a smile, it was a farcry from genuine and the Scout swung the bat downwards, smashing into the Doctor’s genitals. The man was about to open his mouth to scream but the boy clamped his hand over it, leaning in as he squatted between the Doctor’s legs. 

“I don’t quite believe you there, Doc.”

He hissed, the Medic looked up at him with wide frightened eyes. He’d been expecting to get to the respawn, to find the boy lying there fixed but frightened and broken, he’d underestimated him. The boy had caught him completely off guard, he hadn’t even brought any weapons with him. The Scout removed his hand, replacing it with the bat. He pushed it to the Medic’s lips, who held his mouth shut. The Scout leaned down, grabbing the Medic’s hair as he’d done to himself countless times. He continued to push the bat forward against his mouth. The Medic could feel the strain on his teeth, the relentless pressure as the back of his head was pushed to the wall. The boy only applied more pressure, forcing the man to open his lips around the wood. 

“Bite.”

The Scout commanded, the Medic, dazed and vulnerable did as he was told, knowing it wasn’t going to end well. He opened his mouth biting down into the wood, which was peeled and splintered. 

“Harder.”

The Medic closed his eyes as fat tears rolled down his cheeks, completely at the Scout’s mercy as he bit down harder. He could feel the splintered wood lifting, it slipped under his gums, slicing though the skin and splitting the flesh away from his teeth. Blood began to stain the wood, but the Scout only continued to command the man to bite. He began to push the bat forward, into the Doctor’s mouth, it forced the German’s jaw wider, it stretched his face, contorting it until he could see the blood beneath the Doctor’s eyes. Soon it was scratching on the roof of his mouth, peeling the skin away as shards of wood got caught in the man’s throat, causing him to cough and choke. 

And then he suddenly slammed the bat forward, to the back of the Medic’s throat, full force, it split the corners of the man’s damaged lips. 

“You said you liked it when you fucked my throat, didn’t ya? You fucking loved it when I choked on your cock. How’s it feel? How the fuck does it feel having the favour returned?”

The boy snapped, teeth bared as he pulled the bat back only to slam it to the back of the German’s throat, the barrel smashing bone at full force. The Medic was making raspy, wet sounds and when the boy pulled the bat out, blood and bile followed as the man convulsed. He looked up at the Scout with bloodshot, bulging eyes full of tears and blood. The boy smashed the bat against the man’ forehead with a sickening crack, the Doctor was barely alive, hanging on by a thread, his heartbeat a slow, dying thump.

He leaned down, crouching in front of the man, slowly he’d bring his fingers forward, the Medic flinching as he made a small sound of pain and fear. The Scout dabbed his fingers into the blood forming at the Doctor’s mouth, bringing his fingers to his face and painting his own cheeks like that an American footballer would. 

Then the Scout left him there, left him to slowly succumb to death. The respawn would take him, yes, but it’d prolong the Doctor’s suffering and it gave him more time to plan his escape. As he walked he ran the barrel of the bat along the wall, leaving thin blood trails in his wake. He soon came to two double doors, a cold breeze coming from beneath. He pushed his way though them, into the snow, cold and icy winds. He winced, clutching the bat so tightly his knuckles turned white. He saw the Medic’s footprints still imbedded into the snow, he carefully followed them, remaining on high alert. The sentry guns would not kill him, but they might let off a sound that would alert the Engineer to his presence. He kept careful watch, moving around the corner, with his back to the buildings wall. When he turned his head, he saw the camper, and stood outside it, eyes on him, the Red Sniper. 

His breath hitched, he gripped the bat tighter and he bared his teeth, preparing himself for a fight. However, the man remained still and he stared, the harsh icy winds whipped his clothing, his tussled hair littered with snowflakes. No words were exchanged and the boy, with his back still to the buildings wall moved a few more steps, eyes never leaving the Sniper. When he got to the edge of the building, he risked looking around the corner quickly to check for sentries. When he looked back, the Sniper was still staring, however he winked at the boy.

The Scout continued on, checking round the corner a second time. He could see the huge front gates, and the double doors into the bases main quarters. The garage door was open, and there were two sentry guns, but no sign of the engineer. The Scout looked to the gates, they were right in the open, if he ran for them he might be able to make it, but if he didn’t? He’d have to suffer this hell all over again. He stood there, his body trembling, his breath escaping him in thick clouds.

The boy was sure now, by how lax the security was, that the Medic had not informed the others of the Heavy’s mistake. He’d planned to take the matters into his own hands, he’d most likely wanted to take the boy back to the Medbay and remove his fingers all over again. He knew the German would no doubt make his suffering considerably worse, at this stage however, he couldn’t even imagine anything worse than his previous situation. 

He began to move towards the gate, he walked straight forward, deciding to take the perimeter of the frozen courtyard as opposed to walking right though it. He used the thick falling snow to his advantage, knowing it would obscure the view of anybody inside the base. When trapped inside he’d been miserable about the fact that there were no large windows for him to see the outside world, but now he was glad for it. When he reached the gates, he placed a hand on one, pushing it open.

“Not another step mate.”

The boy froze, a chill creeping up his spine, not from the cold any longer but in pure fear as that voice hit his ears over the howling winds.

Behind him stood the Red Sniper, and boy could he move fast when he wanted to.


	18. Bonk!

There was a short silence between the two, red eyes staring into those of blue, the boy’s frame trembling as the wind howled around them. Then that feral Sniper brought a hand out.

“You forgot this.”

The Scout stared as he took his hat from the feral Bushman, slowly putting it on his head, tilting it back like he always had it. The Scout opened his mouth to speak, but the man got there first.

“I saw what you did with the Medic.”

“How?”

“I like that. I like what you did.”

He moved closer. Even with the icy chill, the wind whipping and the snow falling, the dirty Bushman still managed to smell of piss. The Scout stepped back, eyes wide as he placed a hand on the gate, expecting the man to pounce at any moment, instead he spoke once more. 

“You leave the spook to me.”

“Why are you letting me go?”

“Why are you still here asking questions, boy?”

That was all the Scout needed, gripping the gate and pulling it open, tensing as he waited for a loud squeak that never came. He started to run, paranoid, frightened the Bushman might change his mind. When he got to a good distance he turned around, checking the tower, then where the man was stood. The Sniper was still there, and the boy stuck around long enough to see Sir Hoots swoop out from the respawn building, flying up and landing on the man’s shoulder. 

XXX

He made his way quickly, distancing himself from the building until he found a main road. Cars rarely travelled though here and when moving up he’d only seen large military vehicles. He could have started off down the road, hoping a friendly would come by, pick him up, take him back. However there was someone very important he had to rescue. 

The Blu Scout. 

The boy only knew what direction the Blu base was in because he’d seen their minibus head there that day he’d been subjected to them. He remembered hearing the Engineer joking about it not being too far, offering to fix the bus or refuel it while they walked. The Scout started to run, in moments his lungs burned, but stretching his legs and the exercise felt amazing. It was uphill, the snow coming down thicker the further he went, he stuck to the road where the only peril was slipping. Somebody had been around here recently because there was still grit laid down and the roads looked like they’d been used. 

Eventually buildings began to appear, the signature gates similar to the Red base came into view, however these were respectfully painted in blue instead. He crouched low once he got there, once more using the thick falling snow to his advantage, rubbing his arms as he shivered, his breath escaping him in white heavy clouds. There seemed to be no activity at all outside, he couldn’t even hear the beep of a sentry gun, which more often than not echoed thoughout the entire base. He edged closer, looking up at the sniping tower, gripping his baseball bat hard, there was nobody up there either. He moved carefully to the gates, nudging them open with a shoulder and tensing, waiting to hear a voice, a gunshot, a delayed beep, but instead was met with more howling wind followed by an eerie silence. 

He used the same technique as before moving around the perimeter, lowering himself and using the falling snow to his advantage. The building layout was an exact replica of the Red base and instead of planning on going directly to the Med Bay, he instead made his way to the respawn room. He ducked low, passing the garage, he could hear laughing and talking from within it, but he couldn’t distinguish who the voices belonged to. Slinking carefully into the respawn building, moving up that exact replica corridor he eventually got himself to the locker room. 

This locker room was considerably fuller than the previous the boy had visited. It looked like everyone kept their weapons here except the Heavy. Most of them carelessly propped up against walls, fallen over or on top of lockers. He didn’t know how to operate a Sniper rifle so he left it, the same with the Demoman’s weapons, nervous about accidentally exploding himself. There was a shotgun which would work, albeit a little weighty and there was no ammo around other than the two shells already inside the gun, the boy was used to carrying a sawn off version. He didn’t dare touch the flamethrower and the other weapons were either too heavy or of no use to him. He searched everywhere for the Blu Scout’s belongings and it wasn’t until he was just about to leave when he spotted it. 

Crammed to the side, up against a trash can was a blue duffel bag, similar to his own, he rushed to it, lowering the shotgun, bat still in hand as he pulled it open, beginning to rummage though, what he found almost made him cry with happiness.

Bonk!

Fucking Bonk! He held the can so tightly in his hand it was threatening to burst, hands shaking as he continued to rummage though. There was a thick blue hoody in there, which he pulled on, zipping it up and pulling it over his snowflake littered hair. Bonk! In his back pocket, shotgun in one hand and bat in the other, he started walking cautiously down the corridor, his heart pounding in his ears, lips parted as he sucked in breaths. 

He encountered nobody, and the lonely sensation of the base was beginning to get extremely nerve wracking for the intruder. No alarms had gone off, no loud voices or gunshots were heard, it was as if something wasn’t quite right. The boy moved out, making his way to the main building. The snowfall was beginning to lessen now, but the biting wind remained as a constant reminder. Bat under his arm, he held the shotgun in both hands, carefully moving though the double doors. He winced, glancing down the hallway of bedrooms, only to find that nobody was there. However, now he could hear voices, loud and boisterous, arguing, it was coming from the room to the left of the cafeteria. The Scout remembered it well, in the red base there was a fire and a television and beaten up old sofas, it was like a living room for the Mercs. When he’d first seen it he’d imagined himself spending a lot of time in there, watching games, chatting, taking his food in there to eat while watching TV. How wrong he’d been. 

Carefully he made his way to the Medbay, moving swiftly down the corridor, keeping his guard up, body tense and easing his breathing to be as quiet as possible. He found that identical set of stairs, moving down them two at a time before he saw the Medbay door in sight, that big blue cross giving it away. He moved to it, straining his ears, listening desperately for any activity inside, he couldn’t even hear doves. Lifting his head, he listened above him for any footsteps coming down the corridor, nothing. Bringing a hand to the door handle he turned it, it was locked. The Scout cussed under his breath, stepping back and looking to the shotgun in his hands.

He began to run the choices he had over and over in his head. The one was to knock, to see if the Medic would answer the door, and then he’d shoot him in the face. The second was to shoot the door, getting in that way would be easier but the Mercs upstairs would most likely hear the gunshot. The third option was to go back upstairs and confront the Mercs, picking them off one at a time, however no matter how determined or headstrong he was, he knew he wouldn’t survive the confrontation. 

He knocked on the door. Moved to the side and waited, once more ears straining. He heard nothing, no footsteps, neither movement. He waited longer, before finally coming to the conclusion that the Medic must have been upstairs too. That left him with one other choice, aiming the shotgun at the door handle, he winced as he pulled the trigger. The gun fired off loudly, twin bullets blasting effortlessly though the door handle. The recoil sent the boy backwards, catching himself on the stair rail and tumbling down onto his knees. Dropping the gun he turned, looking at his handiwork, the door creaked open but he made no effort to move, listening upstairs for footsteps. There was no time to loose, he picked up his bat then shot though the door, moving though the lab. 

“You here? Buddy? Where are you?”

The Scout looked around the Medbay, panicking when he’d received no response. He looked in the beds behind the screens, underneath them. However, he made the discovery once he’d entered the small kitchen within the medical facility unit.  
Cramped up in a tiny cage, forced to draw his knees and lower his head was the Blu Scout. The Red boy approached immediately, lowering himself onto his knees, rattling the bars. It was only when the bars were shaken that the boy looked up, those trembling eyes growing wide at the sight of the boy. Of course he hadn’t responded, neither to the voice or the gunshot, the boy was deaf. 

“I’m getting you outta’ here buddy.” 

The Scout pulled on the lock, rattling the cage in desperation, standing up he walked around it, pulling at the sides, trying to find a weak spot. He could hear footsteps coming down the steps now, his hands sweaty as he kept pulling at the metal, but it was no use. Grabbing up the bat he moved quickly to the kitchen door, pressing his back to the wall behind it and waiting. The footsteps closed in and moving though the door was the Blu Pyro. They approached the boy in the cage and when they bent down the Red Scout would strike. He swung the bat as hard as he could, a brilliant hollow crack as the wood collided with the masked being’s skull, knocking them to the floor.

He had no time to loose, approaching the lifeless body he stamped down, full force on the masked being’s skull, the sole of his foot meeting the floor with a sickening crack, surrounding the foot in flesh, blood and brain matter as it leaked from the cracked eyeholes. He raised the bat up slamming it down repeatedly against the hinge on the cage. Lucky seventh time and the metal bent beneath the cracked, splitting wood. Running on pure adrenaline alone the Scout ripped the damaged hinge away from the cage, pulling it open and as soon as he did the Blu Scout fell into the other’s arms, holding him desperately. He began to sob, he never thought he’d see his Red counterpart ever again. 

“I’m here..come on, we’re getting outta’ this place.”


	19. This Boy Belongs To Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final chapter.

They held one another for what felt like hours, the Red Scout gently rocking the Blu who was looking worse and worse by the minute. His skin was yellowed, those eyes staring forward with little to no life to them. His mouth hung open, slack, and fingers sweaty and slick, grabbing onto as much as he could of the Red boy. The Red Scout stood, grunting as he lifted the other into his arms, he managed to shift his much skinnier counterpart’s form over one shoulder, occupying his other hand with his bat. He felt the heat coming off the boy, moving to the door and out of the Med bay. 

He carefully walked though the corridors, one hand supporting the sickly boy against him, the other clenching the bat tightly, his ears strained as he listened for any noises or voices. In the main entranceway he saw that the door to the entertainment room was ajar, he could hear murmured voices coming from it so speedily made his way to the main entrance, moving though the doors and letting the icy wind hit him like a ton of bricks. The Blu Scout’s shivering got more erratic, small panicked noises escaped him as he gently began to sob. The Red tried to sooth him by stroking his back, rocking him against his form, any soft, whispered words said were lost in the howling wind. 

It was all going so well until they passed the garage, the Scout wasn’t aware that this door was now slightly ajar too and inside, the Blu Engineer watched. As soon as the Texan saw a flash of red he was up in seconds. And this wasn’t just any Engineer, this fella was mean. With a tall black quiff and eyes hidden behind rockstar shades, the Elvis impersonator, despite his appearance wasn’t the kind of fucker you laughed at. With his cowboy boots that treaded the ice effortlessly, and a tasselled leather jacket over his suit, the guy didn’t even wear overalls or standard uniform.

“If I shot you now, it’d be a damn waste, boy.”

The Scout stopped in his tracks, turning to see the guy was wielding a pistol and it was aimed at him. They’d been so goddamn close. He clutched the trembling Blu boy to him defensively, no, this wasn’t going to stop him now, not after everything. 

“Nobody has to know I was here.”

The Red Scout called out, taking a few steps back. 

“On the contrary, you got there my latest project. That ain’t yours to take. Uh-uh.”

He shook his head, that quiff was rock solid. The Red Scout stared, mouth agape. 

“What is going on out here?”

The Scout froze, hearing the second voice from inside the garage, a German accent, it could only be the Blu Medic, who stepped out to stand beside the pistol wielding Texan.

“Caught this critter here stealing, look he got my…our project.”  
The Scout took another step back, sinking slightly into the snow beneath. He trembled, adrenaline and the cold kicking in as he clutched the boy against him tighter, knuckles white around the baseball bat. The Blu Medic adjusted his glasses, the wind whipping his coat around him. 

“Such determination.”

He approached and this time the Red Scout stood his ground, eyes narrowing, keeping his head held up high, showing the Medic he wasn’t afraid, not after dealing with his own team’s Doctor. 

“If you hand him over, we’ll let you go.”

The Scout clutched his Blu counterpart even tighter, he shook his head. 

“We both go. I came here to rescue him and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“…It’s either he comes back and we let you go, or you both come back.” 

The Medic negotiated, adjusting the lapel of his lab coat, glasses steamed up, resting on the bridge of his nose. 

“You. You belong to the Reds, but this one?”

The Medic pointed at the naked Blu Scout, who clutched onto the Red, his hoarse, terrified sobs barely audible. 

“This boy belongs to us.”

The Red Scout shook his head, glancing between them, watching as the Texan raised the pistol, aiming it at his head. 

“Drop the bat. You ain’t going nowhere. Make one wrong move and I’ll blow your brains out…And trust me, I like my boys without a brain.”

He chuckled, sneering as the Scout did as he was told. If he allowed himself to die now they’d take the Blu Scout back, would continue to subject him to endless suffering and pain. The bat dropped to the floor and the Scout held his hand as his side, fingers twitching. 

“…Unless you’re offering yourself of course.”

The Medic’s words cut the tension between the two as they stared one another down.

“His freedom for your surrender.”  
“I don’t trust you! You could send me back to the Red team, I ain’t falling for that sh-..”

Then he heard a voice. It was very faint, a gentle whisper against his ear. The words trembling and soft.

“Go home… the respawn..it”

The Blu Scout coughed, curling his head in, words no longer escaping him as his chest began to rise and fall heavily, more erratically. The Red Scout clenched the other tightly, knowing what he had to do. Without warning he dropped the Blu Scout to the floor, hand moving behind him, pulling the can of Bonk! From his back pocket, he opened it up with his lower teeth, chugging the contents down. The Medic and Engineer stared in shock, gun lifted as the stuff flowed though the boy, his body beginning to tremble as it began to take effect.

In moments his body was a blurr, the stuff had saved him on the battlefield and it was going to save him today. With lightning speed, before the Engineer even realised it he snatched the gun, turning it and aiming it towards the Texan. The Red Scout didn’t even hesitate, squeezing the trigger and blowing the bastards brains out. He turned the barrel to the Medic now, he’d backed up and turned tail into the garage, the Red Scout followed, gun aimed at him, speed increasing, his body blurring with each movement as he homed in on the Blu Medic, who cowered in a corner. 

“STOP! The Respa-!”

The second gunshot ensured the Medic’s demise, blowing his head off and firing another just to make sure. The Bonk! was beginning to wear off, standing there, he panted heavily, his body twitching and jolting, he stared at the Medic’s corpse before throwing the empty can at it. Making his way quickly back outside, he clenched the pistol tightly in his hand, lowering himself to the Blu boy, who really was beginning to look very blue. His lips and nails dark, skin pure white, his body barely trembling, his lips parted. 

“..I’m sorry.. I’m…I’m so sorry.”

The Red Scout whispered, dropping the pistol and gathering the lifeless body up against him, his chest pressed to his, he rocked him, fingers gripping onto the cold flesh tightly. He heard the harsh intake of breath, the final heartbeat against his chest, he felt those fingers slide from his form, he saw that body go limp, falling back into the bed of snow. 

“No..No..No…No..”

The Red Scout grabbed for the lifeless corpse, held it’s fingers tightly in his own, he gathered him up, clutching the frail dead body to his. Realisation was beginning to hit him. The Pyro hadn’t disappeared, the Medic and Engineer hadn’t burst into blue sparks.

The Respawn wasn’t in operation.

“No..No…NOO!!”

He shouted, tears running in heavy streams down his cheeks, clutching the cold dead body against him.

“Don’t go, no..you can’t, not now, don’t leave me!”

He sobbed, holding the Blu Boy’s hand, rocking gently.

“I came here to save you..I came here to save you..you’re..you’re all I have!”

But when he looked down at the face of that Blu Scout, he saw it. The boy had died smiling peacefully, the suffering was over, he was finally free. The boy’s smiling lips were parted, afterall he was midway though mouthing the Red Scout a message.

“Thank you.”

XXX

Pistol in his back pocket, the slumped corpse of the Blu Scout over one shoulder and baseball bat in the opposite hand. The Red Scout left the base. He travelled the road, proceeding back down the opposite way. He walked for hours, night had fallen by the time he stopped, panting heavily. His clothing stuck to him with sweat, the wind dying down as the crisp night air set in. He began to venture off the road, stepping over a barrier and moving down a steep hill. A cold, dark wooded area awaited him, the trees so thick the snow had barely touched the floor within. It was pitch black by the time the Red Scout made it inside, and once he was within it’s confines it was then that he began to dig. He dug with his bare hands, using his nails to scratch and pull at the frosty wet ground. He used his bat to weaken the earth, crumbling it before continuing to dig. 

He dug so hard and for so long that his finger nails bled, some hung off from small strings of flesh, covered in mud. But the hole was finally dug. He couldn’t go any further, three feet would have to do, he lowered the Blu Scout into it, tears mingled with dirt and sweat as he looked into the face of the Blu boy that resembled him so much. He thought about all the things they were going to do. Go home, make hot chocolate. They were going to play baseball together, he was going to introduce him to his brothers, adopt him. He thought about taking him to baseball games, taking it in turns to cook, sleeping in the warmth of a real bed. But none of that was to be, and as he looked down at the smiling face, he began to sob hysterically all the while filling the hole up. Each clump of mud thrown back into the hole covered the lifeless boy further, soon he disappeared entirely from view. 

Sunlight began to filter though the trees by the time the Scout was finished. He flattened the ground, littered it with rocks and trees. He found some flowers he didn’t know the names of, he put them on the top. 

“I’m so sorry.”

He whispered, one more time before turning and walking away from the grave for the first and final time.

XXX

He’d eventually managed to catch a lift with a delivery truck. Unknown to the boy, the driver delivered all the food rations up to the two warring bases. Having never catching a glimpse of the people who fought the war, he had no idea that he was currently taking one of their soldiers home. The transition between ice and snow and dry, green grass was surreal, the whole world no longer had that blue sheen of despair and Red Scout, for the first time in days smiled, looking out the window and up at the sun. Soon he’d be home with his brothers, and boy did he have a story to tell. 

XXX

The delivery driver took him to the outskirts of his town and he walked the rest of the way. Again, it was surreal to him, to be surrounded by civilisation. Normal conversations, people walking and talking. He wobbled, having to hold himself on a post, hand flying to his mouth as a sudden sensation of sickness washed over him. His head began to pound and his body trembled, dropping the bat. Looking up he saw their faces. He saw that Medic grinning at him, the Sniper moving into an alleyway. He saw the Engineer laughing and the Soldier walking towards him. He dropped to his knees, he threw his hands to his face and he broke down, crumpling in a heap. 

He felt hands on his body and his heart pounded violently, he pulled away, screaming out as he shot up into a stand, running full force away from the people that‘d gathered. He didn’t stop running until he got to the collection of attached houses he knew so well. Chest tight, snot drooling from his nostrils and tears from his eyes. He wobbled, his home was finally in view, finally, normality, finally he could escape this nightmare.

He clutched his chest as he walked, legs slumping. His neighbour was outside gardening, the plump woman raising a hand, waving to him cheerfully, throwing him back into a strange lapse of normality. He approached his front door, gripping the handle. It was unlocked and he slumped in, greeted by darkness, blinds down and lights off. 

“Ma?”

He called out, wincing, realising that he’d never hear her voice again. He flicked on the lightswitch and immediately he knew something was wrong. Chairs had fallen over, tables were broken and there was blood splashed all over the floor. The Scout grabbed the pistol from his back pocket, aiming it as he moved into the kitchen. 

“Hello?”

He managed, putting on a brave voice. He reached for a light switch when he received no reply, and what lay waiting for him caused him to scream. 

XXX

His oldest brother was lying on the kitchen table on his back and he’d been gutted. Intestines pulled out and spread into different directions, knives impaling each coiled length of organ to the table. It looked like a dissected frog, all the other organs on full show, glossy and wet. 

On the corpse was a note.

“One down, seven to go.”

The End?


	20. One Year Later - One Year Anniversary of This Boy Belongs To Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a year today since I released the first chapter of This Boy Belongs To Us and ahaha my god, it’s been an incredible roller-coaster of a year.
> 
> I learned how to use Tumblr properly, I’ve made so many beautiful, lovely and supportive friends. Each and every one of you whose reblogged, liked, left comments, drawn fanart, written fanfiction and left kudos on my work; thank you from the bottom of my heart. So have a little something to celebrate and here’s to another year of terrible, dubious writing. >]

The tomb stone he’d laid to mark the burial site of the Blu Scout had grown over with Ivy, it’d taken the boy a good half an hour or so before he could clear the stone to reveal the empty slab, giving it a good scrub to get it nice and clear. 

“It’s been a whole year buddy, and boy have times changed.”

He was still in his coffee shop uniform, where he worked as a Barista way too many hours a week. He removed his apron and used it to mop the sweat from his brow before lowering his duffle bag down to the forest floor. He unzipped the bag as he spoke, removing his brown baseball cap that went with his work uniform. 

“It was real hard at first, you know the guy who killed my brothers? I finally managed to tail him, in fact bud, he came into my coffee shop and trust me, I wasn’t expecting it.”

He took out the chisel and began to angle it while running his fingers along the stone, planning out his etching before committing. 

“Came waltzing into the coffee shop and man, he didn’t expect to see me there. He was with a lady too, heard that fuckin’ Hon hon hon from a mile away. He didn’t even acknowledge me, I’m glad about that ‘cause it’d have totally ruined my plan. You wanna know what I did, buddy?”

There was a silence and the Red Scout grinned, lowering his buttocks to the floor and sitting beside the stone, looking up at the sun as it began to set. He wished the boy from Blu had survived, so they could observe this together, anything was better than this. 

“Yeah, thought you might wanna’ hear about it. So I saw his car keys, a Porsche, can you believe it? The damn thing stood out like a sore thumb in the car park behind my work right. So I go there and I puncture all them tires. Then I wait til the end of my shift, was only half an hour. Course he was one of them bastards that doesn’t leave until you tell ‘em you’re closing and even then takes his time. I watched him kiss this bird on the way out and they went their separate ways.”

He paused, glancing to the stone, rubbing it down with a damp cloth before lining up the first word.

“How am I? The therapy is good, yeah; my therapist has been incredible to me…. Nah, I still never told the cops, this revenge? It’s for me. My therapist says that revenge is like ice cream, it’s sweet and best served cold. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna get my ice cream.”

As he spoke he chipped away at the stone, leaning forward and using his phones backlight for some extra exposure, this needed to be perfect.

“Oh yeah, the French bastard? He got to his car right, nobody else around so I whack him, right there. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, out in the open? Nobody was looking and nobody is gonna’ miss a slimy snake like him.”

Stopping his chiselling at the stone for a moment, he blew on it and leaned back to inspect his handiwork so far, pleased. 

“Cops don’t care anyway. So yeah, got him in the back of my car. You know I’m driving now, right? I ain’t got a licence or nothing, but I inherited one of my brother’s cars, I should use some of my inheritance on driving lessons, but man, therapy is expensive you know? And Bonk! Ain’t cheap either nowadays…Which reminds me.”

He took out a can of the stuff, opening it up with a click, followed by a hiss, before taking a swig.

“Threw the bastard in the back of my car and I’m on my way. I got my own place, way too many memories of my old life back home, so when forensics were done with everything I just sold the old home, the estate agent got me this job actually, the coffee shop one? I bet you were a real coffee lover weren’t you?”

He went back to chiselling, smiling sadly. 

“I have dreams about us, going driving together, shoplifting Bonk! working someplace nice, my inheritance would have been enough to fix your teeth up buddy and paid for your therapy and the Doc bills too… Like you’d wanna see another Doctor after what happened….Yeah, I know, sorry, I talk a lot. Let me get this finished.”

When he was finally finished the etching on the stone he gave it one last blow before moving into a stand, looking down at it. 

“RIP.  
Blu.  
I went there to save you, you were all I had.  
I’ll live on for you, everything I do, I do it for you.”

He poured the half empty can of Bonk! onto the grave, drenching it with the fizzy substance that bubbled when it made contact with stone, watching it ooze into the grass around the grave.

“Well buddy, it’s been great and you know I’ll be back real soon, sorry I didn’t bring you any flowers this time.”

After packing up his belongings he zipped up the duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He began to walk away from the stone but paused, turning around and taking one more glance towards it.

“Oh, the Spy? Don’t worry about him. He’s waiting for me at home in the basement…I made it sound proof you know?”

He pulled the duffle bag up against his back as he started to head towards the car he’d left parked on the road side. 

“Nobody is gonna’ hear him scream when I get to work on my revenge, buddy. Exactly like how nobody heard us scream back then.”

Eventually finding his car, he’d throw his duffle bag in the back and slip into the driver’s seat. The Scout looked up at the sunset though squinting eyes as he started the vehicle up, beginning to drive away.

“Now bud, let’s go get you some ice-cream.”


End file.
